#anyway i literally finished this book yesterday but i am. holding it gently in my hands it is SO fascinating

[zukkaoru]

full offense but whoever cast the 1940 the house of the seven gables adaptation did not read the novel

[justkeeptrekkin]

If you’re still doing ineffable husbands prompts??? Something with Crowley and being self conscious bout his eyes pls. It’s a weakness of mine lol

I had way too much fun writing this… I hope you enjoy!! Tagging my mate @mikudave, who also requested some snake Crowley. 

***

“Crowley, dear, where are you hiding?”

Crowley cracks open one snake eye. Technically, he isn’t hiding. He had been napping, until Aziraphale’s sing-song voice woke him up. Naps are always significantly better when you can be a snake and curl up in some quiet nook somewhere. No bed required. No judgment. Because, unsurprisingly, people don’t tend to judge snakes that happen to be asleep behind a bookcase- they just scream and run away. 

Crowley pokes his snakehead around the edge of said bookcase and darts his tongue. He can taste Aziraphale’s cologne in the air. Out of sight, somewhere in the room, Aziraphale sighs wearily, but affectionately. 

“Oh, come now, there’s no need for that. If you want to ignore me then don’t go to sleep in my bookshop.”

He stretches his head out further, and he sees him- stepping slowly into the room, looking about the place with a small smile and a twinkle in his eye. His neck craned backwards so he can gaze up into the light that pours through the glass dome above. Bathing in it like the day he was born- how all angels are born, in the light of God’s smile. 

All angels including Crowley, once upon a time. 

Crowley lets his snake eyes stare at him from afar, just for a moment longer. Then, he gathers his limited energy and slithers into view. He likes a good slither. Slithering is much more satisfying than walking, which involves using too many joints, and hips getting in the way. Just as he’s about to sneak up behind Aziraphale’s back, the angel turns and peers down. He sighs again, straightening his waist-coat thoughtlessly. 

“Oh there you are, my love.” Crowley’s cold blood warms at those words. He curls around Aziraphale’s leg like a vine, wrapping around his waist and coming to rest his head on his shoulder. Aziraphale peers over at him with narrowed eyes and raised brows, a furtive smile. “Where have you been, then? Scare any customers away?”

“Yesssssss. Jusssst a couple. One of them almost called animal control.”

“Wonderful. Hang on- actually,” Aziraphale double takes, planted on the spot now that he has a giant python wrapped around him. “Not all that wonderful, Crowley. I do very much appreciate that you’re- uhm-”

“Sssssstanding guard,” he supplies.

“Fine, standing guard, however you want to call it. I admit that it was getting exhausting miracling all the customers away, and I do love you for doing this, but- I don’t know how many times I can convince the RSPCA that ‘no, there’s no python here, everything’s just fine, tickety boo, nothing to worry about, officer, thank you very much, have a nice day’. And all that.”

The chastising look he’s getting from Aziraphale isn’t very intimidating- actually, it’s a bit comical, particularly with his face this close to Crowley’s. He can only see him with one eye, anyway- the other eye, on the other side of his snake head, is facing Aziraphale’s desk and surveying the half drunk bottle of whisky with interest. 

Thinking that perhaps he ought to give Aziraphale a chance to have a real conversation face to face, he makes a sussurating, serpentine sigh and takes his human form. By the time scales have become skin and the tail has become limbs, he’s still wrapped around Aziraphale, albeit with his feet on the ground. His arms are around Aziraphale’s waist, clinging. His face buried in the soft cashmere of his jacket. His breath hot on his face, trapped between the material and his lips. He lets himself hang there. 

Aziraphale feels like home. 

It makes Crowley angry sometimes, thinking of all the times he could have held him like this, felt like this. All the times he could have been braver and said those three simple words.

“Have you been sleeping all morning?” Aziraphale asks gently, rubbing his back.

“Sleepy,” he grumbles.

“Oh, dear.” The way Aziraphale says this is like he’s consoling a moody toddler. 

“S’fine. Just that it’s cold outside and your shop’s warm.”

“Mmm, yes. I turned the heating on the day before yesterday. Such strange weather we’re having at the moment. Do you know, British Gas rang me yesterday and tried to tell me that I haven’t been paying my bills. Can you believe it?”

Crowley snorts, lifts his head up and leans back from their embrace a little. Soft, but stern pale eyes scan over Crowley’s face. 

“What did you say?”

Aziraphale blinks at him. “Well, obviously I found my log books and gave them a thorough run down of my payments. As if I don’t keep track of my bills. Really.”

“Really,” he agrees with amusement.

There had, of course, been the time when Aziraphale had been visited by the Tax Man for being so suspiciously good at balancing his books. Truth is, he really is just that diligent. Crowley briefly feels sorry for the British Gas employee who must have been on the other end of that phone call- they must have had their ear talked off. Gotten a proper lecture, just like the Tax Man. And then, Crowley is bizarrely overwhelmed by how proud he is of Aziraphale for being so unceasingly irritating. 

This thought process is interrupted as Crowley registers the dreamy look on Aziraphale’s face. A sweet smile and pinched brows. 

“What is it,” he asks warily. Aziraphale’s soppy expressions usually indicate when Crowley’s unintentionally done something nice. Or romantic. 

Well, at least, it’s very rarely intentional.

“Nothing, my dear.” Aziraphale pats his chest with a coy smile. Implying it’s not nothing at all, and he’s about to expand any second- 

“It’s just,” the angel continues, gaze peering at him through his lashes. “You have such lovely eyes. Sometimes, it just catches me off guard.”

Of all the things for Aziraphale to say, he hadn’t expected that at all. 

And after all the years that the two of them have known each other, his compliments still make Crowley twitch. 

“Don’t be stupid,” he mutters. He hates how he sounds. 

And he loves that Aziraphale is unfazed by the sneer that’s most probably on his face right now.

“You do. They’re really, truly beautiful, my dear.”

“Stop it.”

“I am being totally serious.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re right.”

“Oh- I may be a bit daft at times, but I’m right about some things, and this is one of them.”

“God you’re- you’re insufferable-”

“You’re beautiful, Crowley-”

“Aziraphale.”

“Your eyes are golden like Autumn leaves-”

“Jesus. I’m- I am genuinely considering becoming a snake just to strangle you, you do realise that-?”

“Shining like distant suns-”

“I will leave you.”

“Do you not see that you have nice eyes, Crowley?”

“They’re fine. They’re eyes. Serve their purpose.”

“Yes but- they’re golden. They’re remarkable. Some would even say angelic.”

“Except they’re not, are they?”

The teasing smile on Aziraphale’s expression falls a little. The teasing tone in Crowley’s voice turns bitter. And Aziraphale’s hands hold onto the lapel of Crowley’s jacket. The gesture is strangely protective. 

“Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, Crowley. I hadn’t realised you were self-conscious,” Aziraphale says quietly. Just for them to hear, even though they’re alone in the bookshop.

And Crowley doesn’t look back, even though he feels Aziraphale’s eyes on him. He refuses to look back. Something in him makes him want to run away. He doesn’t- instead, he grinds his teeth and breathes loudly through his nose, staring at the pile of E. M. Forster books on the table adjacent. 

He could stand here silently and ignore that statement, or he could argue (and lose that battle, because there’s no use arguing with Aziraphale). Instead, he sighs. 

“They’re not angelic, though, are they. They’re the one thing about my form I can’t change. If I discorporate, I could have any other body, but I would still have these eyes.” And he thinks he’s finished, except he hasn’t, because the words tumble out of his mouth like he’s drunk. “Just- you know, a fun reminder of that little mistake I made, when I was young and reckless- and hung out with the wrong crowd, like any stupid kid does. A warning to everyone else that I’m wily. And bad and cruel and untrustworthy. Because, obviously, you know, people deserve to have their mistakes literally branded on them for the rest of eternity.”

And then he really is finished, so he swallows and sighs, turning his gaze to Aziraphale’s bow tie. It’s not tartan today, but it’s just as poncy. Meanwhile, Aziraphale is quiet. Like he’s been embarrassed into silence for putting his foot so thoroughly in it, Crowley thinks. 

But then, Aziraphale always manages to surprise Crowley, just a little. 

“I know just the thing.”

With one more comforting pat on Crowley’s chest, Aziraphale untangles himself and disappears behind some bookshelves. The shop feels almost frighteningly large- without Aziraphale’s close presence, without the tight nook of a bookshelf as a bed. Crowley peers over his shoulder to see him fussing, tutting to himself as he peruses a pile of dusty first editions. Moving one pile out of the way to make room for the next, bending down to find something in particular, it seems. 

“What you looking for, angel,” he asks, a little gruffly in his confusion.

Aziraphale doesn’t answer, which is his way of telling Crowley to be patient and bear with him. Eventually, he makes a pleased little hum, and pulls out a book from the bottom of the very last pile. 

Aziraphale twirls around theatrically to face Crowley, book open in one hand and the other clutching his chest. 

“Golden Eyes,” he announces, with his best thespian voice. “A poem by Laurence Hope.”

“No,” is all Crowley says in response. 

“Oh Amber Eyes, oh Golden Eyes! Oh Eyes so softly gay!”

“Christ.”

“Wherein swift fancies fall and rise, Grow dark and fade away!” Aziraphale begins to pace the room, book hand extended like he’s reading from a script. Like he’s one of Shakespeare’s actors, only, miraculously, even more ridiculous. “Eyes like a little limpid pool That holds a sunset sky, While on its surface, calm and cool, Blue water lilies lie-”

“You can stop now,” Crowley argues, a smile creeping up on him. 

Aziraphale seems to pick up on his amusement, because he bounds over with dramatically wide eyes, and is now, God help him, making whimsical hand gestures to accompany his performance. He’s enjoying this too much. “Oh Tender Eyes, oh Wistful Eyes, You smiled on me one day, And all my life, in glad surprise, Leapt up and pleaded ‘Stay!’ Ooh, now, hang on,” he interrupts himself, “let me just find my favourite bit…”

“You- don’t. You don’t have to.”

“I do, and I shall,” he replies primly, putting on his reading glasses and tilting his head upwards so he can read the pages a little better. “Ah! Here we are- are you ready?”

“No.”

“Ah laughing, ever-brilliant eyes, These things men may not know, But something in your radiance lies, That, centuries ago, Lit up my life in one wild blaze Of infinite desire To revel in your golden rays, Or in your light expire.”

And- yeah, alright, that is quite nice, Crowley thinks. Maybe he can put up with being serenaded every now and then, so long as he gets to roll his eyes and pretend he hates it. And Aziraphale’s bashfulness finally seems to catch up with him as he approaches Crowley slowly, eyes fixed on the book and a small, self-conscious smile on his lips. 

He continues, softly.

“If this, oh Strange Ringed Eyes, be true, That through all changing lives This longing love I have for you Eternally survives-” 

Crowley reaches out a hand to find Aziraphale’s, to run along his arm. 

“May I not sometimes dare to dream In some far time to be Your softly golden eyes may gleam Responsively on me?”

And at that, Aziraphale sighs. He looks away from the page and Crowley takes the book from him, lays it on the table behind him. 

“Well?” Aziraphale asks quietly. A little coquettishly. “May I dare to dream?”

Crowley huffs and shakes his head. He lays a hand on Aziraphale’s cheek, watches the angel’s eyes flutter closed. 

“You silly sod,” he whispers, just so he doesn’t have to hear himself choke. 

With that said, he answers Aziraphale’s question- he answers in a kiss. Soft, sure, and more eloquent than any words he’d ever be able to stumble through.

[i-live-in-a-yellow-submarine]

Ultimate Beatlemania Tag!

Right off the bat, thank you so much to @johns-prince for tagging me! It took me forever to get around to filling this out, but I did it! I kind of don’t know people though so I don’t really know who I’d tag...I’ll just throw @toughbaby-buggybaby in because why not, you can do this if you want!

Anyway, this is gonna be a long post, so prepare yourself if you decide to read this.

How long have you been a fan?:

Okay well this is a little complicated to answer properly, but I’ll do my best. I’ve been listening to their music ever since I was little, and I’ve always adored it. The only problem was that I was either too young to think “Oh, this is The Beatles, I like them a lot!” or I just had no clue that it was them. I have that problem with a lot of bands that I’m into now actually. My dad always forgot to tell me “Oh by the way, you’re listening to insert band name here,” so now I’m catching up.

But if we’re talking about when I decided to sell my soul to these four dorks then it was about a year ago. I got really into their music because of some family members that had come visiting for the holidays, and they were all about The Beatles. One of my cousins would play their songs for me on the piano, as well as some of Paul’s solo work. After that I went in a spiral of just investing myself in them, so now they own my life.

Favorite Beatle:

How dare you make me choose. I love them all and refuse to pick between them-

Really though, I adore each of them so much and it’s really hard for me to make a concrete decision, especially since I tend to go through phases. I always conclude with George though because I just relate to him the most personality wise and admire him in a lot of ways, plus I think he’s gorgeous.

Favorite era for music:

I assume we’re talking about their specific eras in their own music? I hope that’s what this question is. If not, I personally like music from the 60s to the 80s, kind of bleeding into the 90s.

For the bug boys specifically, I think at the moment I’d have to go with everything.

Favorite era for lewks:

Again, if we’re talking about in general, I honestly don’t have an answer?? I’m not into fashion whatsoever, I just walk around wearing hoodies and jeans no matter what. The extent of my fashion knowledge is me seeing something I like and thinking “nice.”

For The Beatles, I honestly don’t know either. I thought they usually looked good in one way or another, (with a few exceptions that we’ll be getting to, don’t you worry) though I’ll always have a soft spot for their moptop era because they just looked adorable all the time. Also, those four looked amazing during their teddy boy days. I’m weak for teddy boy John and George.

Favorite song:

This is a really hard question to answer because I have so many favorites but I’ll try anyway.

This Boy is what I’m gonna start with, because oh my goodness it’s beautiful. John’s voice makes me feel so many things in that song, plus the harmonies behind it are just- mwah. Amazing. Along with that, In My Life never ceases to make me emotional for pretty much the same reasons, and the lyrics of course. The acoustic (???) version of While My Guitar Gently Weeps also has the same effect and I can’t deal with it.

When I’m Sixty Four has always been a favorite of mine from the start. A big part is because I’m a biased clarinet player and love every bit of it, plus Paul’s vocals in that one are so crisp and clear and I can’t handle it. And while we’re on the topic of Sgt Pepper, I also love With A Little Help From My Friends. I always get so happy when I hear Ringo’s voice, and this is one of my favorite songs that he sang.

Probably an unpopular choice for a favorite, but I’ve always really liked For You Blue??? I don’t know why, it just makes me laugh and all giddy for some reason. Honey Pie has the same effect on me as well. That song makes me bounce around like I’m a little kid again, and I adore it. It’s pretty much the same with Martha My Dear too, and also it makes me think of Martha which is always great.

I’m also a fan of their solo work and still branching off into it, but I really like Somedays, Blood From A Clone, and I Know (I Know).

Sorry I went on a tangent I just really appreciate music-

Favorite Album:

I’ll try not to rant on this one because again, I love them all. But uhhhhh, the first album I listened to all the way through (and also the first original record I received, my prized possession) was Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It holds a special place in my heart for that reason, on top of it just being all around amazing. But if you asked me to pick one album that I had to stick with for the rest of my life, right now I’d have to go with Let It Be or The White Album.

Unpopular/Controversial Beatles opinion:

Oh boy, I don’t want to go into details very much because I don’t feel like it, but I’d have to say my belief that the Lennon-McCartney relationship was romantic in some way. I know that one is controversial because…I mean just take a look around.

A song everyone loves but you dislike:

I honestly don’t know really, I don’t think I dislike any of their stuff, or at least I can’t think of any at the current moment. I don’t have many people that I can get opinions about their songs from, but I do know that I don’t go crazy over Yesterday like some people do. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pretty song, I just have others I prefer much more than it.

A song everyone dislikes but you love:

Again, I don’t really know what songs people collectively love and don’t. I do know that when I listened to Lady Madonna with my mom for the first time, I was absolutely vibing and she was not having it. My step dad wasn’t either, and it’s the same situation with The Long And Winding Road. Those are just between three people’s opinions but shhh-

Your fantasy involving The Beatles:

Gosh, if I were able to have met those four and been one of their friends, it would just be a dream come true. Talking to them and just spending time with them is something I wish I could do, just to be there with those brilliant humans would be amazing. I admire each of them for different reasons, and if I got the chance to have been their friend for years, I could die and be happy.

Tell us about the moment you knew you were a fan:

Looping back to what I said at the start, I’ve technically been a fan of their music since I was a little kid. But talking about the time I unknowingly handed my soul to them, I’d have to say around my last birthday.

A while back I was - and still am - all about the Legend Of Zelda franchise. I’d finished up all the manga that I’d bought based off the games, and wondered if I could find other stuff to read that was like it. Then the world of fanfiction showed itself to me and I just thought “Oh boy, this is a bad idea, but who cares, I want content.”

Fast forward to the point where I was really into The Beatles musically. I wanted to know more about the actual people making the music, so during the process of learning more about them, I remembered the deep and dark depths of fanfiction websites. Thus, I discovered that McLennon was a thing and immediately needed to know why. I literally read my first McLennon fanfic on my birthday.

Basically a month later I’d fallen completely in love with these four guys, their music, and McLennon.

Did you ever have a genuine ‘The Beatles suck!’ phase before becoming a fan?:

Oh no, I could never! This band had been drilled into my mind as one of the greatest of all time by multiple family members, so I just went with it. My dad would talk about them and I’d find them fascinating, even though I was much younger. In fact, I have a fuzzy memory of him driving my brother and I to the beach one time many years back, and he was talking about Norwegian Wood. He never actually told me that was the name, so I forgot shortly after. Then a couple years go by and I’m listening to it for the first time in who knows how long and go “Wait! That’s the song he was talking about!”

Favorite Beatles Book:

I actually haven’t read any yet, but I really want to. I’ve been thinking about getting both of John’s because I’ve heard that they’re quite entertaining for the right people, and based on what I have read from them, I think I’d really like them. I would love to get more after that, but that’s where I’d start.

Thoughts on the old generation of fans:

Having family members that fit in that category, I don’t have any problem with them at all. I mean, they were there during the time of The Beatles, and they always have interesting things to say about them and fun stories to tell. In my own experiences some of them can be a bit condescending with their views and opinions because they were alive during the time, but I know that not all the people in that generation are like that.

If Hollywood were to make a high budget Beatles biopic, what is one thing you desperately hope they include?:

Lots of things really. If I had to go with one, I really would want them to show just how much those four loved and cared for each other, especially the bond between Paul and John. I feel like the breakup, which is a very complicated topic in it of itself, tinted the media’s view to the point where some people believe that they hated each other, which is far from the truth.

I assume they would get their personalities right?? But if that’s something high budget biopics don’t guarantee, then that too. I just want to see their lives done right, with the important factors and people in their lives shown in the right light too. I know that’s a lot to ask of a biopic and probably will never happen, but I can dream.

Do you read/write fanfic?:

Yes, I do both. I wanted to become a better writer and artist, so I use The Beatles and other fandoms I’m a part of as a creative outlet in that sense. There are also so many amazing creators out there that I adore, so why would I not pay attention to the great things people have made?

Are you the only one in your family/friend group to enjoy them?:

No, but also yes? It’s kind of weird actually. Family wise, I have a lot of family members that at least like their music, so I can talk to them when it comes to that. But when it comes to the boys as people, I really don’t have many family members who know much or care. I can rant to my mom because she just takes it all in even though she doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about, and I infected my brother with Beatlemaniac as well, so now his favorite is Ringo and we talk about them a lot with each other.

Friends wise, I have two that enjoy them. My closest friend is a musician and music is really important in her family, so she’s been listening to a number of bands since she was basically a baby. I talk to her about anything and everything, which also means I rant about everything involving The Beatles. As far as I know, she doesn’t mind and likes talking about the McLennon tea. The other loves all music and she’s been listening to some of their stuff since she was young as well, but it was when I was getting really invested in The Beatles that she also did.

Are you a shipper?:

Yes, yes, and yes.

Addressing McLennon first, I don’t necessarily see it as only a ship, I believe that those two were in a romantic relationship of some kind. But I’ll save those opinions for just a little bit-

Of course when roaming around in the fanfiction world for that good McLennon content, I was bound to find other ships. Obviously my heart belongs to McLennon, so I can’t see Paul or John in any other relationship. As a result of that, I found comfort in Starrison and think it’s precious, though that’s purely just a ship in my book, so I love and put their friendship first. It definitely doesn’t fall into the same boat as McLennon for me.

Favorite movie starring/made by them?:

Over the past few months I fell in love with Yellow Submarine, which I am going to make count in terms of this question because it’s quality content. I love the humor, the artwork, the designs, the story, the music, everything. I just love it all.

Do you believe in McLennon?:

I’m sure you know the answer to that by now.

General opinions on McLennon?:

This post could go on forever if I actually let myself say everything I wanted to. I’ll try to keep it brief because I’ve rambled for long enough as is.

As I already stated, I have a firm believe that McLennon was real. No, is real. Paul shows his love for John to this day, and I’m sure John is reciprocating it wherever he is right now. Everything that they went through together just takes me on the most emotional rollercoaster to ever exist.

I was in the middle of making a list of just all the little things about their amazing relationship, but I realized there were so many that I could fill books about it all, and there would still be so much that we don’t know about. In the end, what John and Paul had was theirs, and the glimpses of it that we’ve been lucky enough to see are beautiful, heartbreaking, and everything in between. The love they shared lives on in the music they created, and I’m just glad to be able to experience it in that way.

If you got to change ONE thing about their history, what would it be and why?:

Oh this is a hard one for sure. I think if I were able to change something, it would be how the breakup played out. Altering factors in their lives so that they had been able to communicate with each other (specifically John and Paul) properly so they were on the same page with each other in what they needed and wanted probably would have softened the blow of the breakup for them, if it were to even happen.

Preventing the alcohol and substance abuse that was dealt with during that time and onward would most definitely have made things better as well, along with everything that happened with John’s association with Yoko. If they had just been able to keep their issues under control with help from people qualified to do so, I think things would have turned out much better for all of them. Then again, it’s such a complicated topic and there are so many things we could change for the better that I don’t have a set way to answer the question.

What song has the best vocals?:

I’m about to go on a tangent again, sorry-

I love the vocals for When I’m Sixty Four. Everything just sounds so clean in that song. I also really love how Paul sounds in Michelle and She’s Leaving Home, with the background feeling all calm so his voice kind of pops.

Girl leaves me feeling like a puddle and I don’t know how to handle it. It’s a similar situation with Do You Want To Know A Secret and This Boy too. The vocals just make me feel things.

John’s voice in Across The Universe and Julia sounds so sweet and sincere, and it always calms me down. I don’t really know why I love it so much, I just think the vocals are wonderful and almost insecure.

I think my favorite performance vocals wise has to be If I Fell though. The way Paul and John’s voices blend perfectly shows prominently in this song, and it’s absolutely beautiful.

What song do you feel had no effort put into it?:

Los Paranoias, but I don’t care and vibe to it anyway.

What is a well talked about moment in Beatles history that you genuinely believe to be false?:

I’ve been thinking really hard about this question but I can’t really think of one off the top of my head that holds much significance. I know there are plenty, but how glorified John and Yoko’s relationship was just seems so artificial to me the majority of the time. I know that isn’t really a moment per say, but it’s the only thing I could think of.

What is something you KNOW to be true, but often gets erased in their history?:

The biggest one that comes to mind right now is definitely the majority of the things involving Yoko throughout the breakup of the band up until John’s death. Honestly, I’ve read and thought about it so much that I just don’t really feel like going into much detail, but in general a lot of the things Yoko did seem to be brushed under the rug.

Least favorite look from a Beatle(s):

Need I say more?

Really though, I don’t have a care for the facial hair John and Paul had in 67, and again later on with their beards. I think they just looked better without it, when you can see their whole face. There’s also the underlying struggles they were dealing with at the time that brought on those messy looks, which makes me more sad than anything.

Favorite look from a Beatle(s):

I’m just gonna list my favorites for each of them and then my favorite pictures or gifs of them because why not.

How I Won The War John is beautiful and I can’t explain why, he just has that special something. I also have a thing for 64-66 John in hats-

Honestly everything from 63-66 is great for Paul. He looked pretty much the same to me during that time period, just with his hair gradually getting longer.

He also had his moments in 67, after he got rid of the mustache (that’s how I feel about John in 67 too)

I could go ahead and say just about everything for George honestly because I’m weak for him. But to pick absolute favorites, then I’d go with 65, 67, and The Rooftop Concert.

I absolutely adore 63 and 64 Ringo to no end. He was just adorable no matter what.

For the whole group together, I think my favorites would be their Shea Staduim or A Hard Day’s Night looks. They make my heart melt.

Anyway, that was a lot of rambling and I definitely didn’t need to write as much as I did, but what can you do? Thank you again for the tag! On the off chance that anyone sees this and wants to do it, go ahead! Peace and Love <3

[jooneggs]

The Star From Santa | Jin ⭐

⤑ Pairing: Jin x Reader ⤑ SUMMARY: Christmas in the city just isn’t the same. Especially when your harboring a longing for the mysterious man who made you adore the night sky just months ago ⤑ Genre: Fluffy | Angsty | And a lil’ bit Smutty ⤑ Warnings: Swearing, Homesick and Sad y/n, Drinking, Sexual Tension, Oral (f)) Receiving, Nipple Play (f), Kim Cuddles ⤑ Word count: 7.7k

A/N: This is my first ever BTS fic, and first time to ever participate in an online writing project. I was a Secret Santa for @bloodpotato​, and i couldn’t be more thankful. It was such a pleasure to get to know more about you as a person and a writer; you really are a sweetheart. I will always be reminded of your answer regarding star-gazing and cloud-watching as it has reminded me of how lucky i am to live in a place where i can watch the sky in the countryside whenever i'd like to. I also, as someone from England, learnt a lot more about Christmas down under *whoop whoop*! I really hope you enjoy this one shot and have a beautiful Christmas, love Roxy. 

Also a quick thank you to the honey’s at BTS Writers Collective for having me as a member of their Network and for organizing this project with many other writers, i had a lot of fun 💜

-

This definitely didn’t count as the first time you felt you were literally drowning in coffee.

It was only 6am and you had already found yourself crawling out of bed to your desk to slave over work with your partner in crime, caffeine. The feeling it gave you was warmth, but all around you was evidence of yet another year of Christmas’ return. A small pine tree suffocating in tinsel lent broadly on your windowsill, whilst the streets below seemed to glow with spirit. 

If it weren’t for your non-stop schedule, you would have stopped for an hour or two at your window and become completely entranced in the flow of rosy-cheeked shoppers and lights. You liked the lights the most, but staring at them for too long could almost pierce the veil that you were really happy with the way things were currently going.

Although it felt like a millennia, it was just two months ago that you had started working as a sales assistant for a local retail store that just needed extra staff to cover Christmas time. Things had been rough since moving away, you guessed, and had immediately tried to soften the blow by pre-occupying yourself.

You had tried a convenience store which fell through when you tried to confront some obvious thieves against your managers wishes. You had then attempted to work in a jewelers, before being dismissed for being too friendly to the customers, almost ‘befriending every single one’ as your manager put it. That kind, outgoing streak in you seemed like your ultimate downfall, before you finally found yourself as a sales assistant with things looking-up as the senior staff seemed to cherish the youthful spark within you. And you quite enjoyed working there, spreading your knowledge and learning things about each customer as-well; it felt a bit like life had just softened all the blows and gave you a hearty pat on the back.

Of course the pain from moving didn’t just disappear. You supposed it was time that almost bandaged that wound. Yes, you’d call it a ‘wound’..maybe now a scar. That’s what moving away from your hometown in New Zealand felt like to you. No one can deny that childhood heavily influences the entire spectrum of a human, so it felt safe to say that the countryside had forever bred a love for monotony and peace inside of yourself. Walking to work each day, you seemed surrounded by noise: the sound of cars, the small violence of neon shop lights and the constant buzz of conversation. This was not the same a few years ago before you moved. Out in the sticks, things flowed with a calm intensity: everything felt as one. It just felt more bearable to work, live and breath. 

Each evening you’d find yourself re-cooping under the nearest loose-leaf shaded tree or patch of grass near your house, a book and pencil in your hand, or sometimes just you and your thoughts. During that time, you’d worked in a bakery next to your house. It was a small village near a beach, and you found it easy to navigate yourself between neighbors and small shops. Most fondly, when thinking back to your home, you’d remind yourself of the field closest to the bakery. It seemed like only yesterday you were smuggling rolls from failed batches into your backpack to enjoy during your lunch break. You felt like The Famous Five itself (except from it was just solitary you) buttering bread rolls in a quiet field, attempting to converse with nature herself. The blades of grass, the dopey little flowers that seemed to smile back at you, and the sky..

The sky..the clear sky was the best. It seemed to clear any worries you’d had that day. 

And then, of course, there was 'him’..

The city smog here would often shadow the stars, leaving you feeling like the only entity on this earth. Couple that with the fear of you spending another year without visiting back home to see actual stars and experience undeviating peace; you felt completely fucked over. 

A sudden shrill sound of trucks passing blared through the window, pulling you from your thinking. You shook what felt like dust-mites from your hair. Staring around absentmindedly, you noticed you’d unconsciously downed all the coffee from your mug. 

“Ah..this isn’t any good.” You belched, almost fully deflating in your chair. The desk below you felt littered in paperwork from work. You’d recently been given overtime. ‘Overtime’ meaning absurd hours into the holidays where all you felt like doing was kicking your feet up and watching something you love. That, at this point however, felt extremely optimistic as you now had just a day before the deadline to file through papers you hadn’t chance to finish in your last shift. 

“Bags feel heavy..” You murmured “My eye bags feel heaaavy..” 

You filed through the sheets below you, all the blanks needing to be filled in were more than obvious to your eyesight. What was all this for anyway? You vaguely remember sitting through a precarious training session at work that answered the above question, but you also vaguely remembered it going right over your head. At this point, you wished you could just spend your days glued to a window, just observing and doing nothing at all.

Thumbing at the sheets, the nerve to refill on coffee shook your senses, bringing you to your feet. The large mug hanging from your hand paled in comparison to the weight you felt was dragging down on your small frame. You hoped a nice drink and the process of walking a few meters would give you some air.

You unlocked your bedroom door, always cautious to remain private, and stepped out onto the corridor to reach the kitchen. Moving closer, the sound of traffic from your room faded, and your roommates jovial humming filled the space. Stepping into the doorway, it felt like you had walked into some kind of psychedelic grotto, as your roommate could not be heard humming notable Christmas tunes. Dangling on a wooden dining chair, she seemed tempted to cover your Christmas tree in as many colors and designs as possible. Ornamental hot-dogs, cats, rainbows, teddies and doughnuts hung on each branch, almost screaming out to the entire world to be paid attention to. Moving closer to inspect the madness of the tree, you felt surprised that your roommate didn’t feel confident enough with this bright display to proclaim it to the entire block of flats. 

“Ah Toya, you’re nuts!” You exclaimed.

“You could say that..” She laughed, halting her humming and stepping clumsily from the chair to seat herself opposite yourself. 

“You’re literally, a complete Christmas cracker!”

“Well..” She said, pondering her own work “I think it definitely makes a statement.”

That’s for sure, you thought. Gazing at the Christmas tree, you seemed to spot every single element of her glistening in the tinsel. Around the room, you noticed so much of her work; not just the decorations, but the tidiness. You felt like you had been locked away in your room for days, simply apparating to and from your bedroom to your job. Looking at all of this only made that feeling more seated in your stomach as you realized just how much you’d missed socializing with your roommate. 

“Y/N” Toya said, standing up and gently patting your shoulder, moving you out of your thoughts “Hey, I need to speak to you about - “

“Do you think i need to stop drinking coffee?” You blurted “Sorry - I mean..i’m struggling a bit with my work and it seems to help but I've been in my room a lot now and I feel bad about being away from you and just not being this crazy socialite that I usually am.”

“Judging from the length of that sentence, I think you’ve probably had enough caffeine for today.”

“I - “

“Why don’t you sit down so i can have a word with you regarding - “

“Hold on a second Toya. Sorry, i just want to get myself one more cup, then i’ll ration myself on water for the rest of the day, k’ay?” With that, you hustled over to the kitchen worktop and began to make another brew for yourself that was gonna be a lot more than just small. 

With the coffee jar in the base of your hand, and its granules filing their way into your mug, you felt Toya’s eyes searching yours from the other side of the room. Things had hushed since you denounced your second coffee escapade for the day, and you suspected she wasn’t too happy with the way you were acting; you weren’t too happy with the way you’d been acting yourself.

Whenever Toya felt a led of resentment towards your behavior, she’d do this - just stop talking and confront you with her eyes. At this point in your friendship, you could tell instantly when it was going to happen. It was her silent way of judging, but acknowledging you at the same time.

When you’d left home and took up your first job in the city, you’d met Toya: hiding in the nooks of a storage room at your convenience store, rummaging through boxes of candy to deliver, a lollipop in her mouth. You were the cashier and she was the local delivery driver who scooted her way around the neighborhood each week, running errands with a smile on her face. That contagious smile brought out the socialite within you, and three months later you looked at Toya as a friend, and a roommate. 

You suspected she’d seen your downward spiral, and so her staring had become more frequent recently. This was, inevitably, a game of cat and mouse..and soon she would end up catching right onto you..the cat who got the cream. It was only the fact that she cared about you, and the fact that you wouldn’t open up to her that made her once vocal attempts turn to silent, vicious calls to action.

But you were scared to say anything really. Your innocence, your childhood, your hometown was this fragile thing stored deep within you. 

Not only that, but how would you be able to tell her about ‘him’?..it all just felt easier to avoid. 

“Ah shit, i guess that’s the last of the coffee granules..” you grumbled, letting the coffee jar go empty and your mug liquid black. You screwed the lid back on with applied tension and began to move toward the door with your beverage, letting Toya’s eyes follow you. 

“It’s not about you moving away, is it?” She chimed.

“..What?”

“Well..you are hurt because you’ve moved all of a sudden and its a big change, right? But that’s not just it? That’s not the main reason.”

“I need to get this paperwork done, I'm sorry.” You felt frozen, attempting to walk back to your room and away from her despite your body desperately telling you to turn back and be honest. It wasn’t entirely the truth and - hell you knew that, you’d told yourself this every day - but you couldn’t just tell Toya everything. You couldn’t even say ‘his’ name. You decided that you would never bring him up unless he made himself visible to you. On that note, you felt your bedroom door close behind you and the world fall away a little bit as your mug met the desk and your back met your chair. 

Thinking like this was a dilemma; The definition of its adjective: using thought or rational judgement, seemed to contradict every illogical and irrational thing running through your mind right now. This was the whole reason why sticking to bed, caffeine and staring out of windows made life much easier for you, it disabled you from thinking like this and simply focusing on the task at hand, even if that task was lying in bed. Of course you knew it contradicted everything you were and loved back in the countryside, but like animals adapt to changing habitats, you had simply adjusted to compete with the concept of living in a state of constant sensory overload.

Okay. Think straight. Put your coffee down - yes, leave it, no drinking.  What was the best thing to do now? Tugging your phone from your pocket, you realized only an hour had passed..and you had a whole day to complete this work. I mean, it was only 7am, sleep didn’t seem entirely unjustified..

-------------------------------------------

“Good morning, your listening to The Edge Radio Station, Auckland. The summer holidays truly are out and were getting on our festive gear with some of your favorite Christmas Classics. -”

It was the distant thrum of the radio that brought you out of your sleep; that, and the fact you felt you were jolting around at 50/mph. It wasn’t long before the far off hope for more sleep suddenly made you realize you weren’t sitting at your desk; at least the constant movement of your body didn’t make it feel like that. 

A quick panorama was all it took to bring you to your senses. You were in a car seat, your legs twisted horizontally, thumping against the chair. Your hands wriggled in your lap, and you felt the slight sensation of drool pooling down your jaw. Lazily wiping your mouth you peered out to your right. Toya sat in the seat next to you, slouched in the backrest, casually orienteering the steering wheel. Her black hair was slightly muzzled, a habit in the midst of her frustration, her clothes exactly the same as the ones she wore this morning. With the placid look on her face, you wondered what had led her to placing you in her car and spontaneously driving off. A distant memory of her wanting a ‘word’ with you floated around in your mind bringing you to the conclusion that this was what the ‘word’ was going to be: a trip somewhere that was probably foreign to you. 

So where were you headed? What urgency required you to drop all work and all plans on Christmas Eve to be dragged unconscious into a car and driven away by your roommate? The fear of missing deadlines and skipping work fizzled in your stomach, wondering how you’d ever explain this to your manager, your colleagues and a more than disappointed set of parents. 

“Ah so your awake?” Toya said, turning slightly toward you.

“What have you done now? I need an entire explanation.” You replied, sitting up straight, letting your hands cling to the dashboard. 

“What have you been doing with yourself y/n? I’ve shook my hair up in frustration because of you, you’ve let yourself slip.”

“I’ve been slipping since i first took that job at that fucking convenience store..”

“Right, and i thought..” She paused, scratching her head “I thought that you’d only get worse spending Christmas cooped up in our flat with just my crazy ass to keep you company. I mean, i know i’m not much help, but you’re so private you don’t tell me anything, you just crack jokes. And i was trying to speak to you earlier, to tell you i wanted to take you somewhere. I didn’t want it to have to get to the point where it feels like i’m kidnapping you because you value coffee over important conversations.”

You mumbled an incoherent ‘yeah’ in response. 

“So I guess now is the time I reveal to you what i’m doing..” 

With an exhale, she loosened her grip on the wheel and grabbed your hand. Eyes still on the road ahead of her, the unexpected touch helped to bridge your barriers and relax you ever so slightly. 

“I’m taking you back to your hometown y/n. I thought you could spend Christmas Eve there with me or just by yourself, then on Christmas Day you could go to your parents..i mean, I've contacted them and everything.”

It felt like an electric bolt had run through you “What? What?!”

“You needed to get out for a bit, I had to do this.”

“But Toya, what about my work and everything. I purposely locked myself away because I couldn't go out, I just couldn’t make the time.” You felt yourself gasping and all of a sudden the familiarity of the scenery washed over you.

It was the red budded trees you instantly recognized, standing tall by the roadside in little colonies, their wide branches leaning out to you. Metrosideros Excelsa, the epitome of Christmas and the most precious thing about the season to you was, all of a sudden, everywhere. They were evergreen plants, with beautiful fluffy red flowers, topped with yellow buds. On Christmas Eve and New Year’s, you’d go the short distance to the beach with your family and shelter yourself under one, watching the sunset and the tide slowly pour in. At night, the tree would turn a burgundy red, its branches whistling in the gentle wind. It was custom each year to witness fireworks on the beach, go swimming or attend a village barbecue to reflect on the seasons. 

But how could you enjoy these things once again with the thought of progress on your mind, with the looming fear of disappointment from your peers creeping over you?

“It’s okay y/n, I've sorted everything out, absolutely everything.” Toya chimed, a smirk running along her lips, her hand squeezing yours “I spoke to your manager last night, and told him about your situation. You know how proud they are of you and how much of an asset you are to the company, as much as you want to deny it. Anyway, he was very sympathetic and took it as a debt to you to give you a week off as ‘sick pay’ on account of poor mental well-being. Mam and Paps know part of your situation as well and they can’t wait to have you over for Christmas Dinner; they were practically vibrating with excitement down the phone line when I rang them this morning.

You felt dumbfounded “I don’t know how to thank you enough Toya.” 

Her hand moved back to the steering wheel, the surroundings becoming ever more familiar and comforting “You don’t have to thank me. Go and enjoy yourself for a bit.”

------------------------------------------- 

It was a small parking bay at the edge of the village farm that you stopped at. you nervously shrugged off your seat belt and stood out in the warm air as everything washed over you. As calm as the nearby sea, it felt you had never really left, like you could just let the past few years fall from your memory. 

“Do you need some alone time?” Toya murmured, standing in the distance like a silent spectator.

“Yeah..i think so. Is that alright?”

“You do what feels right, honey-bun, just meet me at the local bar if you feel a bit lonely.”

With a nod in her direction, she hugged the small of your waist and galloped off into the distance. You were left like a little stick figure in a vast, desolate space and it felt absolutely liberating. Just what would you do now?

Your feet, almost unknowingly, led you away from the small farm field and onto a narrow lane ahead of you. You were reminded that this was the lane you used to take to work, and the lane you would take home afterward; it was like the main passageway for all your old country escapades as a child. Although small, and sometimes tenebrous in the evening, it brought you many memories of daydreams you’d had walking after a long day, or all the little melodies you’d made up occupying your journey home after school. Today, the path was brightly lit in the early afternoon. your shoes felt light skidding across the dry gravel. You supposed you’d take this time alone to reminisce and re-live. Time didn’t have to be this constricting and bewildering thing - you could take its reigns and shape the next few hours alone how you wanted to.

Making your way along the bushes, you stopped at the first turning: the small rickety lane to the bakery. it spoke to you, and you stepped onto its stones, your toes curling in your shoes as you meandered up and down its bumpy body. It wasn’t long before you arrived at the small shop and its fields that stretched miles ahead. You thought it wouldn’t be a silly idea to pop in and grab something like a cheese roll to savour out on the grass in the thick heat. Almost skipping down the path, you made your way through the wooden doors of the bakery, hearing a distant bell chime of a new customer and immediately made your way to the cashier. 

Before you knew it, you were walking over to a patch of empty field with a slightly soggy bag filled with two cheese rolls. Unfortunately, at the bakery, you didn’t recognize anyone. You had hoped that with the joy of its scenery, all of your old colleagues would still be there, including its most pretentious and unforgettable one, that guy you found it painful to say the name of. 

But like life had made a new path for you to become a ��city girl’, so it seems it had for the rest of your old friends at the store. Certainly life, in all its modern and progressive grandiose, didn’t wait for any poor kid to catch-up. You could definitely attest to that statement.

Your cheese roll tasted just as good as ever, its gooey innards melting onto your tongue, warming you up even more than before. You bit into its dough again and again, ravishing the flavour as if it were a particularly fond memory. Part of it really was a memory. Working at the bakery, you would eat these little guys all the time; biting into it really took you back to a time where you didn’t have to worry about the future or the scary word that was ‘responsibility’. Maybe downing this cheese so carelessly really would transport you back in time. 

In the meantime, you just watched the clouds. Unlike back at your apartment, where the majority of cloud watching came from gluing yourself to a window on the fourth floor of a city skyscraper, this felt much more holistic, almost as if you could touch the clouds. The sky, free from pollution, was extremely vibrant, forming itself like a little dome encapsulating the village. 

*rustle*

The sound of grass being trampled on disrupted you from your thinking. You turned back to locate the sound and spotted a figure in the distance. Mid-bite of your cheese roll, you swallowed thickly and attempted to identify the person. To your luck it was a boy: tall, dark hair..broad shoulders..

Shit..it was Jin

Immediately, you turned away, praying by some divine intervention that you would disappear into the blades of grass and become entirely invisible. Maybe if I lean forward a bit, or hide my hands in my jacket and let it swallow me i won’t be noticed. You were terrified that with every passing second your presence would become more clear to him and eventually you’d feel his breath upon your neck..

..Which is just what you so happened to feel after that thought dawned over you.

“Long time no see, y/n.” You felt a deep, sentimental voice speak from over your shoulder.

“Jin..hi.” You whispered, briefly turning to watch him sit next to you, palms and legs outstretched. 

Jin, in two words, was devastatingly handsome. Among the green grass dunes, his white shirt and slack jeans were incredibly vibrant. His broad shoulders stretched his shirt, showing a defined caramel collarbone and his dark intimate eyes seemed to bore into yours. It was hard not to be completely transfixed by his presence. But you knew all too well why you hadn’t uttered his name in the past few years; why you hadn’t even thought of his name. Even Toya had said that leaving this beautiful countryside haven wasn’t the worst thing on your mind, it had been Jin all along. 

You supposed it was time, in this confronting scenario, that you replayed the scene itself. It was November 2017, and you had stopped in these fields for the last time before leaving to the city. A backpack full of notepads and pencils shook as you hopped on the bumpy path toward the bakery. It was almost pitch black and your head had felt sore all day from thinking about all the things you’d had to leave behind. I’ll see you very soon old friend, don’t worry - you thought. But it felt easier just to say the words and not so easy to believe in them. 

A dip in the hill is where you sat, and is where Jin joined you that night. Surprising you at first, you warmed to his shadow and ended up stargazing with him. You were sure hours and hours had passed before you found yourself opening the door to your home, legs slightly like jelly from the way butterflies flew around your stomach. It hurt leaving Jin even more than leaving your hometown because he was the person that encapsulated it all for you. It was almost like he was a product of everything you had ever loved and missed about your childhood and your home. Even lying with him for a few hours that night, you felt you had found the missing piece. 

Of course all of this sounds wonderful and peachy, until you recount the promise he made to stay in touch. And, bam, that was the thing that had hurt you the most - like cupid’s arrow to the spleen - he had never contacted you since. 

“Are you cloud watching? Can i join?”

“I guess..” You mumbled, shifting slightly to allow a space between you as you laid on the grass.

You felt his shoulder nudge yours as you sunk into the grass beneath you. Exhaling slightly, you begin to focus on the shapes of the soft white tufts above you, distracting yourself from Jin.

“I work at the bakery now. I always have lunch in these fields; nature is kind to me and what-not.” Jin said

“Right.”

“I guessed you were probably curious as to why you’d find me here..” He rocked gently on one side to face you more, his hair falling over his face. “What brings you here, fair maiden?” 

You were reluctant to respond, your focus on the clouds becoming less and less possible “I have a job as a sales assistant, and a roommate to keep me company.”

“It sounds like you’ve really succeeded.” He responded, arms now splayed behind his head. 

A silence fell over the field, and you felt ever more uncomfortable. This was your golden opportunity to confront Jin and attempt to clear the metaphorical air. 

“Why are you acting like nothing happened Jin?” You waited for a response, but only seemed to hear from the wind as Jin’s eyes glazed over watching the clouds. “You do realize I haven't actually been succeeding all that much in life, right? Things were difficult the moment I left here and - I hate to say it - but you played a big part in that.”

“I’m sorry..”

What?..

“What?! You’re just sorry? Jin, you promised that you’d check on me, that we’d check on each other. I must have looked obsessive because I’d be messaging you every single week and to no reply. It wasn’t like that night was just a one-time thing..we both knew that.”

“I know that I just - I don't know what to say..” His stare was fraught on the sky now, never wavering toward you. The silence was apparent and becoming almost deafening as you attempted to ask him ‘why?’. 

“You really just didn’t care did you?”

“I - “

You stumbled onto your feet for purchase, moving back from him “You don’t know how long I've wanted to talk to you and - god, i didn’t want it to be like this Jin..but I'm hurting.”

“I’m sorry, I'm struggling to explain myself. I’m not easy when it comes to these things but I didn't just ignore you, i swear.”

At this point you were deafened by silence and seeing a tinged red in your vision. Getting these emotions out was a rarity and everything had just poured out, leaving you almost devoid of feeling. What more could you say to him without making things even worse? You needed to be rational and the best way to do that was to walk away from the situation. 

“I’m sorry - I just want to sort things out.” He pleaded again but to no avail. Sandwiched between clenched teeth you simply sighed before walking away, his broad figure wavering, so fragile and volatile. Walking away from Jin would stop him from breaking.

Continuing to remain as rational as possible, you made your way back through the tight-squeeze lane and toward the car park. There, in the opposite direction, would be a road that led to the local bar. There, you hoped you would find a sober Toya to spill your guts to about what had just happened. 

-------------------------------------------

Your hopes came true; when you arrived at the lane leading to the small bar, there she was outside, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She looked surprised when she saw you stumble towards her, attempting to remain calm, but seeming to fail miserably. It wasn’t long before her cigarette butt was on the floor and she was pulling you into the building to get you a seat. 

“What have you gone and done now? You’re meant to be enjoying yourself..” She sighed as she pulled out a bar stool for you and ordered a pint of sparkling water.

Before long, you had explained everything to her. You were less worried about how fast everything had come out of your mouth, and more relieved that you’d just opened up to someone close to you. Toya had sat still the entire time, silent and supportive. You could tell, behind her eyes, that she was surprised that you were being this honest with her - it was nice.

“Goodness y/n..i completely understand where you're coming from.” She tilted her glass toward her mouth, speaking in muffles “But I'm sure Jin didn’t mean it. I remember when we first moved in together and how eager you were to tell me about him. You don’t have to know someone for years to be able to pick out their core personality traits, and it's obvious that Jin was never good at expressing his true feelings.”

“But why couldn’t he just be honest with me; I thought I meant at least that much to him.”

“I think deep down you know the answer to that but you don’t want to face it. He’s almost exactly like you y/n, he has this barrier that keeps him from being hurt by others - deep down he’s a really sensitive and giving person..like yourself.”

She broke away from her drink to confront you directly, her eyes piercing yours like Jin’s had earlier. You froze slightly from her look, a feeling falling over you that suggested you’d messed up. Badly. 

“I shouldn’t have been so brash, right? Ah, its painful because everything is so beautiful here, and i just wanted to enjoy it all before I was reminded that he existed. I’m sorry Toya.”

“It’s fine, honey-bun. You need to start enjoying yourself here, i see you want to so just let go. And while your at it, learn something you can take back to the city with you and hold close to your heart.”

“You’re right..”

“Not usually.” She laughed “Listen, I saw a poster earlier this afternoon advertising a beach barbecue later today. Do you want to go with me and we can let our hair down together?”

And there was that little weight that suddenly loosened itself  “I would love that.”

-------------------------------------------

The sun had fallen down to the shore, and the sky was a caramel yellow by the time Toya and yourself had gotten down to the beach. Just by the incoming tide and a crop of trees was a large crowd of villagers, drinks in hand, dancing to a more relaxing beat of house music. You’d instantly been drawn to this interaction and found yourself - merely 30 minutes later - riding a high after two mixed drinks, buzzing from the bodies around you. 

Although it was a more civilized kind of ‘party’, you’d always been prone to perhaps drinking too much for your own good and, at this point, you couldn't care any less. Looking to the side of you, Toya stood close, enjoying her drink. She kept her distance, allowing you to soak in the atmosphere, but remained near just in case you needed her. You liked that; she always seemed to be looking out for your best interests. 

At this point, you were just following the rhythm of the bass. In your slightly blurred eyesight, the sky was dropping through a rainbow of colours, taking you through a trip in itself. Losing yourself in the airs iridescence, you could almost forget about the events of earlier today. 

“Ladies and gents, were frying the food up now so get your stomachs ready for the best Christmas dinner of your life!” A male voice boomed from over the crowd, a small speaker in his hand to project his voice over the vast lines of people on the beach. You decided to edge closer to the barbecue grill so as not to miss out on the food when it was ready. Pushing past various strangers, politely apologizing, you smelt the aroma of sausages come into your nostrils. 

It was then that you spotted Jin, standing behind the grill. On this hot day, he had unbuttoned his shirt and was wearing shorts, now conversing with the chef next to him. You swallowed thickly, not exactly feeling at your best to hold a proper conversation yourself, but feeling the overwhelming need to apologize to him.

In fact, that feeling seemed to completely take over any sense of direction you had, now forcing you to run over to him and sob a pleading ‘sorry’ into his bare chest. He seemed taken aback, pushing against you with some urgency to check you were okay, leaning down to confront you with his eyes. Through a now tear-stained and blurry vision you saw him as he clasped onto your shoulders as if they were magnets. 

“Ah Jin i’m s-sorry, i’m so sorry i was such an idiot earlier and I..I don’t k-know if i can make things right.”

He chuckled, breaking you out of your dizziness for a second, “You’ve drunk a bit much haven’t you?” 

“Shit..” You hiccuped “Maybe I have..”

“C’mon.” He took your hand, guiding you away from the crowd, “Let’s go somewhere more quiet so I can talk to you.”

-------------------------------------------

Jin had led you five minutes away from the crowd, behind the beach bush and onto a quieter sect of sand surrounded by palm trees. You both stopped, slightly short of breath and stood in silence, taking in the humid air. It was then you looked over to Jin and saw his head raised to the night sky. In the dark, his skin seemed almost luminescent, lit by the very stars above. His hair was tar black, his eyes twinkling. He was extraordinary, and you wondered - for a second - how on earth someone so ethereal could come from such a mundane place.  

Above you, the stars glowed once again for another night. Your intoxicated state bubbled with fondness at the balls of light shining overhead. They were so pretty, and it was hard not to become nostalgic as you were reminded of the night you shared with Jin looking at these very same stars. It was almost like you were in the presence of your two favourite things: the night sky, and the man who reminded you of that very same sky. It made you feel even more euphoric than any cup of alcohol possibly could. 

As you stood, almost floating with the evening buzz, you felt Jin clasp your hand. His warm fingers curled around yours. You gripped back just as tightly. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Jin said. 

“Yeah..it really is.” You breathed “It’s almost like every one of my childhood memories sits in these stars.”

“I get that..”

“It makes me realize how much I miss being away from this beautiful clear sky.” 

You wavered on your feet before turning to him. You felt his gaze follow from the stars to you, his breath beginning to settle on your cheek.

“I’m sorry for being pathetic at apologies y/n.” Jin spoke. “I didn’t explain myself earlier, and kind of just pushed the problem away. I shouldn’t have done that, it was an ‘idiot Jin’ move and i’m not an idiot..at least I don't think so.”

“If you’re an idiot, then i guess that makes two of us..”

“Well i don’t want to hide from you how I truly feel. And how I truly feel is..well i’m actually pretty sensitive. I don’t always know how to convey how i’m feeling and often I just bottle it up and use it on wasted energy. Sometimes it's easier not to open yourself up to people.”

Your hand melted into Jin’s, your stare softened “I guess that’s why you didn’t follow me to the city..”

“I wanted to..” He looked down at your feet, eyes not meeting yours “I swear, I would have gone that night if i could. But I - i just felt like a bit of a burden. Like, you wouldn’t want me there.” 

“Of course i would you dummy!” You shook his hand, lifting his chin up “Why are you acting shy all of a sudden? I mean, Jin, you’re the king of cocky.”

“You know me too well, cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”

“Yeah..cupcake.” He tested the name out on his mouth as it neared yours “I like the way it sounds on my lips.” 

“I like it too..”

“What the name?”

“No..” You mouthed “Your lips.”

Before you knew it, your faces closed the gap in the dark, and his mouth met yours. He was velvety, and soft, and hot. You didn’t want to sound crude, but you’d dreamt of this moment every night since meeting him. You didn’t expect everything to happen so fast once seeing him again, but you weren’t surprised. Since finding each other, almost like a movie, you found this huge spark; since separating you’d felt it everyday, this huge lack of him.

His arm laced around your waist, and he pulled you near to him, walking backwards to rest your back against a nearby tree. Jin pushed his lips harder against yours, your mouths moving in sync, your breathing growing heavier. He was quite intoxicating, the plush feel of him against you driving you crazy. 

“I want to do something to make up for earlier. To make up for the past few years away from you.” He gasped, pulling back from the heated kiss, “Let me treat you, cupcake.”  

It was then that he began to go down on your body. His lips first pressed against your neck, working against the bottom of your jaw and slowly moving onto your collarbone. He kissed each patch of exposed skin, his tongue swiping against your shoulder blade, making you keen into his touch. He worked inward, sucking tenderly, reaching a spot that made you whine against his neck. 

“Ah..” You groaned, letting his mouth work wonders down your figure “This is what you meant..” 

He hummed in response, now on his knees in order to move lower to your breasts. With a gentle flick he disregarded the strap of your shirt with his hands, letting your top sit on your waist. Noticing your absence of a bra, he smirked and cupped the swell of your tits with his hands, leaning to suck at your right nipple. His tongue lapped over your chest like a starved man, his other hand teasing your left breast, leaving you almost breathless.

“This is for the first year of our absence.” His words were muffled, and vibrated across your tits as he took your nipple into his mouth again. He sucked gently around your tit, moving his head from your chest with a wet, heated ‘pop’. He reached for your left breast with his mouth, his teeth now scraping against your soft flesh - a silent but raw need in the way he was touching your skin. 

Before you could reach for another breath, Jin was moving even further down, his face now reaching a dangerous but starved territory. You mewled into the air, grasping at his silk locks “Jin we’re outside, we’re not far from a crowd full of people..”

“That’s what makes it exciting, cupcake.” He whispered, his voice now four octaves lower, more huskier than ever. Jin’s fingers raked down your hips,  slowly resting above your ass, pulling you further into his touch. His hands skirted your shorts, slowly wiggling them down your thighs and to your ankles. You turned your head from him in embarrassment as your pants hit the floor, your legs clamping together like a vice. He gently pried them open, hissing at the sight of you glistening in the dark against the soft wooden bark of the tree behind you. Slowly looking down, you watched him from the hooded slits of your eyes, his lips beginning to press against your womanhood. Tongue now poking at your slit, you moaned as heat fully pooled in your stomach.

He smirked once again between your legs, fingers creeping down, reaching the flesh of your ass and squeezing it gently “This is for the second year of our absence.” He kissed your slit, tongue lapping you up like a meal, “Bon appetit!”

You could all but watch and respond in laboured breaths as he worked at your pussy, his tongue reaching deep inside you, fingers leaving marks against your thighs and backside. You’d never thought you could feel this close to Jin, but you were. He was world: the sky, the stars, your hometown, your Christmas. With his face buried into your heat, mouth working fast and rampant, you became more and more breathless, a knot now beginning to unravel in your stomach.

“Oh Jin..I’m c-close.” Your eyes glistened, mouth scrunching with pleasure as you watched Jin in the depths of your pleasure. He looked up at you, pupils blown out, hair sweaty, and that was all it took for you to be blown over the edge. For what felt like a minute, the sky became a dazzling black, and your body swelled with electricity. In that moment, he worked even faster, even more eager to draw ropes of pleasure from you. You groaned wildly, back pressing against the cold bark as your orgasm peaked, leaving you completely spent.

 In an attempt to conserve what little energy you had left in you, you let yourself fall to the sand, back sliding down the tree to lay among the dunes. It wasn’t long before Jin joined you, already on his knees. He moved to your side and wrapped his arm around your back to bring you against his chest. He was warmer than ever and seemed to bubble with energy. It was then you knew you didn’t have to say anything, you could just lay together now, lay like you did the first time you met and it would be fine. So that’s what you did. You snuggled against his chest, letting your eyes fall shut, falling into the night.

 -------------------------------------------

“y/n..”

“y/n wake up..”

“y/n..”

“WAKE UP!” 

You almost leapt out of your skin at the sound of what seemed seemed to be Toya shouting in your ear. All noise slightly muffled, you rose to your feet, taking in the scenery around you.

You were in a room, cream walls and a cream rug and what appeared to be a kitchen ahead of you. As you turned, you spotted a Christmas tree too, a Christmas Tree with all sorts of odd decorations littered over it. It took you a second, but before long it seemed scarily obvious..you were back home and in your front room with your roommate. How?..

“C’mon sleepy head, I've been trying to wake you up for ages.” Toya laughed, tugging you toward the tree.

“Ah, what?” You yawned, scrambling to your knees to meet Toya on the floor and gasp at all the presents lying underneath the tree.

“Your so forgetful. It’s Christmas!” She pulled a few presents from the tree and moved them toward you, grinning like a fool. “Open them honey-bun.”

You spent the rest of that morning (or was it the evening?) filing through presents. It felt like hours before you stopped, shocked at what Toya and your family had gifted you. You tried to dismiss what felt like a strange lapse in time since Jin and the beach, and slowly began to relax into the festive spirit. You finally came to your last present, toying with the bow like a soppy child, upset that the gifts had eventually came to an end. With reluctance, you lifted the lid and pushed the tissue paper aside to reveal a small box. Lifting its casing, you removed its top and watched as the present inside was slowly revealed to you. 

It was a beautiful silver necklace, ribbed and laced with gold embellishments. You twisted it around and swallowed as you were met with a small star trinket dangling from its centre. Who was this from, it had no label?

“Where’s the label?” You asked, turning to Toya for solace.

“Pull out all the tissue in the box, it might be at the bottom, i’m not sure.”

You leant over the box, pulling it back to you so you could remove all its packaging. It was only in the last thread of tissue, that the label was wedged. Pulling it out, you turned it over to read its addressee..

It read: 

‘Merry Christmas Cupcake. 

From your Star,

J x’

-------------------------------------------

[capcarolsdanver]

Crush

Request: I also have an idea for Kate x r: r is new at school and is kind of adopted by the friend group, starts crushing on kate, is super sad tho bc r assumes kate is straight and hooking up with whatever guy and closes herself off from kate, until kate realises what's going on and how she feels about r and goes on to confront r…

Pairing: Kate x Reader

A/N: Sorry for the long wait!! This week I had absolutely no motivation and every time I sat down to write nothing was coming to me. It’s the worst when I really want to write my requests for you guys as quickly as I can but I literally feel stuck and so uninspired to write sometimes. As always, feedback is appreciated!

Requests are still temporarily closed!!

(gif originally posted by @dianas-shortgalpal​)

You sit down at an empty table in the dining hall with your breakfast. You arrived at Tanner Hall late the previous day, and so you still haven’t really met any of your fellow classmates. You don’t mind, having been kind of a loner at your previous school, so you open the book you brought with you while you eat your breakfast.

People start to fill the other tables in the dining hall and it’s not too long after that you hear a voice.

“Hey.” You look up towards the voice and see two girls sitting at the table next to you. They both wear friendly smiles on their faces. “You’re new here?”

“I am, yeah,” you reply. The girls share a quick silent look before turning back to you.

“Why don’t you come sit over here with us?” The girl with the dark brown hair says. You look at them in surprise. “If you want to,” she adds on after a moment of silence.

“Yeah,” you nod, closing your book and grabbing your tray to sit opposite the girls.

“My name is Y/N by the way,” you say  with a smile as you sit.

“I’m Fernanda, but I prefer Fern. This is Lucasta,” the girl with the darker hair replies.

“Feel free to call me Lu, though. It’s nice to me you,” the other girl smiles at you. The three of you sit and talk for a little while, getting to know each other a little bit and chatting about your old school before a blonde haired girl drops into the chair next to you, startling you.

“God, messing with Mr Middlewood is so much fun,” she chuckles. Fern and Lu laugh and both roll their eyes at their friend.

“Yeah, I don’t think yesterday’s whole shower thing will be forgotten any time soon,” Fern says and the blonde laughs. She seems to suddenly realise that her group of friends has an additional member as she faces you and lets her eyes look you over.

“And who do we have here?”

“Oh, this is Y/N! She’s new,” Lu introduces you.

“Well I’m Kate. It’s nice to meet you.” She says and holds her hand out towards you. You get lost for a moment staring back into her eyes before you realise what you’re doing, quickly taking her hand in yours to shake it.

“Yes. Right. Uh, nice to meet you too,” you manage to stutter out and Kate smirks at you as she releases your hand.

“So anyway, what did you do to Middlewood now?” Lu asks and Kate chuckles.

“Nothing more than usual. It’s just too easy to get a reaction from him.” She looks over to where you sit, still trying to shake off whatever you’ve been feeling since Kate sat down next to you. She looks down at your tray and points at the blueberry muffin you’ve left untouched.

“Were you gonna eat that?” You shake your head and push the tray a little towards her.

“It’s all yours.” Kate smiles at you and picks up the muffin. Somewhere in the background you’re aware that Fern and Lu are speaking, but you lose the ability to focus on anything else as you watch Kate’s fingers peeling the muffin liner off, and you can’t help but watch as she breaks off a piece of the muffin and brings it to her mouth.

You snap yourself out of the daydream you’ve found yourself to rejoin the conversation.

“We can hang out in mine and Fern’s room tonight,” Lu says. “Y/N, you can come hang out too.” You agree and shyly smile. It felt good to finally know you had people who seemed to like having you around.

------------------------

It’s been a few weeks and you’re amazed at how you’ve managed to become such close friends with these girls already.

It’s become routine for you and your friends to hang out most nights after you were all done with your school work. Kate often brings her work with her to hang out with you or one of your other friends beforehand, saying she gets too bored working on her own, and you always let her, glad to be able to spend time with her.

Victoria also likes to show up when you’re all hanging out. You wouldn’t mind if it weren’t for the jabs she’d always throw at Fern and the fact that Lu and Kate seem thrilled by every stupid idea she comes up with. You and Fern always shoot each other glances when she’s talking about doing whatever rebellious act she’s come up with.

You sit by the windowsill and watch Kate apply makeup to Fern’s face while Lu sketches at her desk. Kate leans back to look at Fern and nods in approval.

“Hey, Y/N. Come over here,” she calls to you and you hesitate slightly before standing and walking over to where Kate’s rummaging through her makeup bag. “I think this colour will go great with your eyes.” She grabs out an eyeliner pencil and steps closer to you.

“Get used to this. She does it a lot,” Fern laughs as she moves to sit on her bed. You try to laugh too, despite the internal panic you feel when Kate gently grabs your face with her hand to steady you.

You try to keep your breathing even and hope that Kate doesn’t notice your increased heart rate as she finishes with the eyeliner. She puts the eyeliner down and leans back, smiling at you as her eyes study your face.

“Okay I was right. You look hot.” You feel your cheeks immediately burn and you try to duck your head. Kate picks up some lipstick and holds it out for you. “Now put this on.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much?” You mumble and Kate rolls her eyes playfully at you.

“Oh, please. Live a little, won’t you?” She steadies your face with her hand again and looks down to your lips as she applies the colour to them. When she’s done, her eyes stay on your lips for a moment before they look back up into yours.

“There,” she speaks softly and you’re not sure if you imagine the shy expression on her face and the tension that fills the air between the two of you. “You look beautiful.”

Before you can respond, Victoria barges into the room and successfully ruins whatever moment you think could have been happening between you and Kate.

“Kate, pass me that lip colour. I’m going to get the school key from Peter today so I have to look my best.”

“Wait, you were serious about that?” Fern questions as Kate hands her the lipstick.

“Of course I was. We’ve got to have a little fun and rebellion while we’re here, don’t we?” You and the other girls all look between each other, and when she’s met with silence, Victoria looks up from the mirror and raises her eyebrows at you with an exasperated look.

“Come on.” She smirks at Kate and steps closer to her. “Kate. It’s your senior year. Surely you want to have a little fun, right?” It only takes a few seconds before Kate is nodding and grinning in Victoria’s direction.

“Yeah, if you get the key we’ll go.” Victoria squeals in excitement before practically running out of the room. Kate turns back around to face you all again, offering Fern a sheepish grin when the other girl glares at her lightly.

“You really want me to get expelled during my first semester here, huh?” Kate chuckles and even Fern giggles a little and shakes her head.

“It’ll work out fine,” Lu reassures you from her seat at her desk.

“Hey, maybe if we go to the fair we’ll see the guys from the all boys school,” Kate beams as she wiggles her eyebrows. “You know I love it when we run into them.” You’ve heard a lot of these kind of comments about guys from Kate over the last few weeks, but it still makes your heart sink every time.

“I swear you’re the horniest person in this entire school,” Fern jokes and Kate shrugs.

“What can I say? I know what I like.”

You head back to where you’d been sitting near Lu before. You let out a quiet sigh and try to ignore the conversation that continues, zoning out as you stare blankly at the floor. You miss the way Lu looks from you to Kate, a curious look on her face.

------------------------

You’re completely lost in your daydream as you rest your head on your hand, staring at Kate from your seat near the back of the classroom. Recognising that you have a pretty heavy crush on someone you consider a close friend, you’d decided to try to distance yourself slightly from Kate, at least until you can figure out what the hell to do to deal with your feelings. But you still continued to catch yourself with your eyes glued to her, watching her every move.

This time, though, you’re shaken from your daydream when Lu nudged you from the seat next to you. You quickly take your eyes from Kate and look to Lu.

“You okay?” She speaks in a hushed tone, trying not to gain any attention from the class.

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” You try to offer a convincing smile but she clearly doesn’t buy it.

“Really? ‘Cause I swear you haven’t taken your eyes off Kate the entire lesson.”

Your cheeks immediately turn red and you clear your throat, trying to gather your thoughts.

“No I haven’t.” Lu shoots you an incredulous look and a teasing smile shows up on her face.

“Oh yeah? What has Mr Middlewood been going on about this entire lesson, then?”

“Uh.” You glance quickly around the classroom, trying to find anything that will give you the answer but finding nothing. “Shakespeare?”

“Not even close.” You sigh and Lu’s eyes soften as she continues to watch you. “What’s on your mind?” You hesitate to speak and let your gaze settle back on Kate for another moment.

“The guys Kate was talking about. She’s with one of them?” You try to speak nonchalantly but you’re not entirely sure how convincingly you’re pulling it off.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve seen her fool around with one of them a few times at some parties we’ve gone to, but I don’t think they’re actually together.”

“Right.” You nod and feel any hope you had left completely vanish. Lu studies you a little longer as you stare at your desk and your brow furrows slightly, completely lost in thought.

“You like her, don’t you?” She presents it as a question, though when your eyes snap up to meet hers you have a feeling she’s figured it all out anyway.

“What? No!” You speak in a defensive tone, much louder than you had intended, and almost the entire class turns to face you at your outburst. You try to make yourself appear smaller, offering Mr Middlewood an apologetic smile before he continues his lesson.

Shorty after, the bell rings and you stand up. Lu places a hand on your arm to get your attention.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. We don’t have to talk about it. But you know I’m here if you decide you want to, okay?” You see Kate starting to make her way over to you and Lu, so you quickly grab your things and look back to Lu.

“Okay.” You smile and nod at her. “I will. Thanks Lu.” She nods and lets you leave before Kate reaches your seat.

------------------------

Your interactions with Kate go kind of like this over the next few days. If you’re in a group setting, you tend to sit away from Kate, as much as you really would like to sit right next to her. If Kate asks to come by your room to study with you, you always come up with some excuse for her not to, and you’ve even gotten yourself out of some group plans too. Though very likely irrational, you figure it’s the best decision to keep your distance until your feelings fade.

On the day you're all meant to sneak out to the fair using the key Victoria had, the possibility of running into those guys comes to mind and you really try to get out of going.

“You absolutely have to come with us,” Lu says. You’re in your room, sitting on your bed while Fern sits at the chair by your desk and Lu stands.

“Yeah,” Fern says. “I’m meant to be helping Peter with his paper, so if they’re making me come then you have to as well.” You look at both of them as Kate and Victoria walk in through your open door. Kate leans on your desk and Victoria stands by the door.

“Well? Are we ready to go?” She looks at you all impatiently and Fern and Lu shoot you a look before you let out a sigh, standing.

“Yeah, let’s go.” You grab your jacket and you all head out, sneaking out of the building easily and starting the walk down the long road towards the fair.

“Hey.” You turn your head to find Kate walking beside you. She offers you a smile, which you return. “Where’ve you been hiding lately?”

“Oh, I’ve been around.” It feels wrong to not talk to Kate in the usual way you would, but she just seems glad to be talking to you now, smiling even wider at you before bumping her shoulder into yours lightly.

“Well, we’ve missed you.” You continue to walk side by side and you let yourself smile at Kate’s words.

When you reach the fair, you all grow more excited and you actually let yourself have some fun with your friends. Of course, this doesn’t as long as you’d hoped, as you hear Kate squeal in excitement before she’s running towards a group of boys. You and the other girls follow her and when she jumps at one of the guys and kisses him you try to act as unaffected as possible.

They decide to run off to the ferris wheel, leaving everyone else behind. You had already at some point lost Victoria and Fern makes it obvious that she wants to go off on her own somewhere too as she backs away from you and Lu, so you both wave her off and Lu turns to you.

“We should probably go make sure she’s gonna be okay over there.” She tilts her head in the direction of the ferris wheel and you sigh and nod at her begrudgingly. By the time you two stand in front of the ferris wheel, Kate is already cheering and yelling across the fair and you look up as the guy next to her pulls her closer and they kiss again.

“So that’s the guy, huh?” You struggle to keep your tone light as you watch the scene before you.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug a shoulder and laugh dryly. “Of course the girl I like has to be straight.”

“Yeah. I think I kinda know that feeling too.” Your head turns fast as you look at Lu, and she just shrugs at you before explaining. “I’ve been finding out some stuff about myself recently too, I think. I’m sure you get it.” She gestures back towards the ferris wheel where Kate is cheering again, and you can’t help the smile that grows on your face at the sound of her laughter.

“You really like her,” Lu observes and you let out a deep sigh.

“Not that it matters.” You see some tables not far from you and point towards them. “Should we sit down and wait? We’ve clearly got a lot to discuss about you, too.” You smirk at her when she suddenly gets nervous and the two of you make your way to one of the tables.

------------------------

You and Lu are given a good amount of time to sit and talk before Kate comes over, stumbling as she stops in front of the table.

“Hey there, pretty ladies,” she says in greeting, slumping down into an empty chair and grinning widely.

“Oh god, Kate. How much did you end up drinking and smoking?” Lu wears a tired expression, probably already preparing herself for the walk home and getting Kate back into the school safely and quietly in her state.

“Mm, I don’t know.” Kate scrunches her forehead in thought for a moment before a cheeky grin takes over her face. “But, god, I forgot how great a kisser he is. We need to sneak out more often.” She bites her lip as you assume she thinks about the boy whose tongue was just down her throat, and it’s enough for you to abruptly stand up. Both Lu and Kate look at you.

“I’m gonna go find Fern and Victoria so we can head back.” Lu gives you a sad kind of smile and nods and you turn and walk away.

Thankfully Fern and Victoria were already walking together in search of you, so it didn’t take long before you were all walking backwards the school. Unfortunately for all of you, the weather decided to mirror what you were feeling, and so it absolutely poured as you all shuffled together miserably along the side of the road.

“Kate, stop walking out onto the road. No one’s going to stop for us.” Lu pulls Kate back to the side of the road, having already done so several times. Kate pouts and huffs heavily as she falls into step next to you.

“God, this is miserable,” you hear her mumble before she presses herself into your side and you let her for a moment, quietly enjoying the warmth she brings.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter, gently moving yourself away from her body. At the sudden loss of warmth, she looks to you in question.

“Are you okay?” She eventually asks. You keep your eyes facing straight ahead and you nod dismissively.

“Yeah.”

Kate opens her mouth to speak again but Lu obviously picks up on what’s going on, slotting herself between you and Kate and allowing you room to walk next to Fern. She offers you a reassuring smile that you aren’t quite expecting from her and then grabs your arm so you can both provide each other some warmth, walking in this position the rest of the way back.

------------------------

The next morning you’re sitting in the dining hall with Lu and Fern, finishing up with your breakfast when Kate takes the seat next to you.

“God, I think I’m paying for last night a little,” she runs a hand through her messy hair and picks up the mug that’s sitting on her tray. “This coffee better bring me back to life.” Before the conversation of last night can even continue, you stand up and grab your empty tray.

“Alright girls, I’m out of here.” You wave and begin to walk away before Kate pulls the mug away from her lips and calls your name to stop you.

“Did you want to maybe hang out later and watch a movie or something? It’s been a while.” She looks hopeful and you come close to saying yes, but instead force a smile onto your face.

“Uh, I’ve got a paper I really need to work on. Maybe some other time?” Her face drops a little and she nods at you as you turn to leave.

Kate turns to Lu and Fern who are both sitting silently.

“What’s up with her? She’s been acting so weird the last few days.” Kate pouts and looks at her friends, who both share a glance. “What?”

“Nothing.” Kate eyes her friends suspiciously.

“Okay, well that was an obvious lie. What is it?” Lu bites her lip, clearly unsure of what to do. “Come on, Lu.” She sighs and shoots a light glare at Kate.

“Okay, fine. Don’t tell her I told you this.” She pauses and Kate gestures for her to continue talking. “Y/N kinda has a pretty major crush on you so I think she’s just trying to distance herself a bit so she can deal with it,” Lu blurts out and Kate’s eyes widen at her.

“Wait. Y/N has a crush on me?”

“Uh, yeah dude. It’s pretty obvious. Even I figured it out,” Fern chuckles and Kate furrows her brow and blinks.

“I didn’t even know she was into girls,” she mumbles to herself. “But I don’t get it, that’s why she’s been acting weird with me?”

“Well, yeah.” Lu shrugs one shoulder at Kate as if it should have been obvious. “I mean, you’ve talked about guys almost non-stop, and you hooked up with that guy last night. She’s just trying to spare her own feelings by having some distance from you.”

Kate tilts her head. “What do you mean? How will that spare her feelings?”

“Well, you’re straight. So she knows you can’t reciprocate her feelings.” A beat of silence falls over the table and all three girls feel the weight of it. “Wait. You are straight, right?”

------------------------

You sit in Mr Middlewood’s class next to Lu, trying to focus on the lesson. ‘Trying’ being the keyword. You’ve caught Kate more than a handful of times trying to subtly look at you over her shoulder. Again, ‘trying’ being the keyword. She definitely wasn’t the most subtle person you’ve ever met.

“What’s she doing?” You whisper when you catch her gaze again before she quickly looks away.

Lu looks up from her book. “What’s who doing?”

“Kate. She keeps looking over here. Plus, I swear I haven’t heard her flirt with Mr Middlewood once this whole lesson.”

“Oh. I hadn’t noticed.” Kate looks over yet again and looks back the other way, and you continue to watch her in confusion.

“See. She just did it again.” Lu remains silent and a thought suddenly hits you. “You didn’t tell her, did you?” You look at Lu and she instantly becomes a stuttering mess, avoiding your eyes.

“Um..”

“Lu! Are you serious!” You hiss, avoiding calling attention to yourself in the middle of class again.

“I’m sorry!” Lu tries. “She knew something was up so-“

“So you just told her? Oh my god.” You drop your face in your hands and thankfully hear the bell ring, standing and grabbing your books. You completely avoid looking in Kate’s direction again.

“I’ll see you later?” Lu asks hopefully with a sheepish smile on her face.

“We’ll see. I haven’t decided if I’m gonna kill you or not yet.” You glare at her as you walk away but you both know you likely won’t stay mad at her for long. Trying to dart through the hallway as quickly as you can, you’re stopped by a hand on your elbow and you turn to find exactly who you weren’t really wanting to see right now.

“Y/N.” Kate says carefully.

“Uh, hey Kate.” Her hand stays on your arm, but she brings it further down to your forearm.

“Are you headed to your room?” You nod. “Mind if I walk you?” She smiles at you, but you note that it lacks the playful kind of confidence her smiles usually carry.

You hesitate for a moment but decide you might as well have whatever conversation you need to have with her and get it over with.

“Uh, sure.” She nods gratefully to you and drops her hand from your arm as you begin to walk side by side towards your room. As you walk, the continued silence between the two of you makes you increasingly more nervous, going over scenarios in your head of what Kate might want to talk to you about.

Reaching your door, you turn to Kate who still hasn’t said a word since you started walking. “Thanks for walking me here. I guess I’ll see you-“

“Is it okay if I come in for a minute? I kinda wanted to talk to you.” Her body looks pretty tense and she’s acting so unlike how she normally does that you feel a sinking feeling wash over you, expecting the worst.

She doesn’t want to be friends anymore. I fucked it up, you think to yourself.

“Yeah, okay,” you manage, opening the door for her to walk through. You close you eyes tightly for a moment and breathe, keeping your emotions at bay before you follow Kate into your room.

You silently watch her as she paces the floor of your room a few times, deciding on taking a seat at the edge of your bed. Her knee bounces and she looks anywhere but at you. You take another breath to try and calm yourself down before you finally can’t take it anymore.

“Alright Kate, let’s just get this over with.” She looks up to meet your eyes, confusion across her face.

“Get this over with?” You shoot her a slightly exasperated look.

“Come on. I know Lu told you.” Kate bites her lip and drops her eyes, and normally you’d find it cute but this whole conversation seems to have you on edge. “You don’t want to be friends anymore,” you state as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Kate’s head snapping back up to look at you sends you a different message, though.

“Wait, what? That’s what you think I want?”

“Well, yeah.” You feel less sure of yourself after Kate’s reaction, your tone less aggressive. “This stupid crush has obviously made things too awkward now.”

“That’s not it at all. The opposite, actually.” Kate seems to find some of her confidence again and she sits a little straighter, sounds a bit more sure of herself.

“What do you mean?” Kate pats the spot on the bed next to her, waiting for you to join her before she speaks.

“Since I first met you, there’s always been something pulling me towards you. It’s confused me for a while now, but I never really thought about it too much. And I don’t think I realised what it was until Lu told me that you liked me.” Kate’s eyes stare into yours and she looks nervous, maybe even scared, but she takes a deep breath to steady herself before grabbing your hand.

“I’m an idiot for not realising it sooner.” She places a hand on your cheek and strokes it softly with the pad of her thumb, her eyes travelling your face.

“Kate?”

Hearing your voice brings Kate out of the trance she had found herself in, her eyes meeting yours again before she slowly leans her head towards yours. You somehow find the confidence to meet her halfway, her soft lips pressing against your own.

Your first kiss is light and you only pull back for a tiny moment before Kate lets go of your hand to pull you in closer by the waist. Your second kiss is all smiles and quiet laughter and you eventually have to pull back when you’re both grinning too wide for the kiss to continue.

Catching your breath, your eyes move from Kate’s grin up to her stunning eyes.

“So, you don’t want to stop being friends with me then?” Kate chuckles and shakes her head at you.

“Okay, forget what I said before. You’re the idiot.” Your mouth falls open only with mild offence before Kate’s pulling you towards her again.

[hamletandthegang]

In Which Occurs a Screaming Match, but More Importantly, Cupcakes

Hamlet rolled out of bed at noon, and threw on a hoodie to go down to get some coffee. Ophelia met him in the hall, and laughed. “Did you just get out of bed?” She smiled. “I’m going to visit Horatio in a little while if you wanna join.” She seemed to be happy this morning, and that made Hamlet happy. 

“Yeah, I’ll come, just lemme get some coffee.” He smirked at her. She nodded and walked off.

Hamlet made his way to the kitchen, and walked straight to the counter where the coffee pot sat. Someone had made a new pot very recently, and he looked at the steam quizzically as it floated through the opening in the lid. 

“Good morning!” Annalise’s cheery voice floated through the door. It swung open, and she walked in. “How’d you sleep?” she asked with a bouncy smile. 

Hamlet grinned back at her, and replied, “Eh, okay. Are you coming with Ophelia to the hospital?”

Anna nodded. “Yeah, I’m just finishing these cupcakes, and I’m gonna bring ‘em to Horatio and Marc.”

“Oh, neat. What flavor?” 

“Chocolate,” Anna replied.

Hamlet smiled, set down a mug out of the cabinet, and poured it full of steaming coffee. Anna walked back through the door as the alarm started beeping, and Hamlet settled himself by a table and pulled up a chair.

He was just starting to drink from the mug, when Polonius marched into the kitchen. Hamlet jumped slightly at the sudden noise, and set down the mug.

Polonius turned about, and upon spotting him, glared, humphed, and marched right back out. 

Hamlet watched him leave, and rolled his eyes. He picked up the cup again, but Anna called from the kitchen, “What time did Ophelia say she was going?”

“She didn’t say!” Hamlet shouted back. He heard her set something down with a clink of porcelain on granite. Gertrude had allowed her to use the kitchen whenever she wanted to, to make whatever she wanted. The Queen had learned about her rough home life, and immediately ‘taken her under her own motherly wing’. 

Hamlet lifted his cup a third time, but almost spilled it just as Claudius burst through the door. “Christ, I just want some coffee,” he muttered, turning to see who it was, and then immediately looked away. 

“Hamlet!” Claudius practically shouted.

Hamlet didn’t look at him, but mumbled, “Can you turn the volume down a bit?” 

Claudius frowned when he didn’t turn to address him. Hamlet thought he looked like a frog when he frowned. “Hamlet, I need to speak with you. It’s about,” he gestured around, “This. I mean, you didn’t even come down until noon! What about your courtly duties? All you want to do is squander the royal money and run off to England with your little friends!”

Hamlet slowly turned around to face him. “Okay, great, we’re both on the same page that I’m a sucky person. Now what the hell do you want? I’m sure it’s not to yell about my sleep schedule.”

“I want to talk to you about your… questionable choices. By which I mean, well, running off in the middle of the night all the time, throwing the court into a confusion at any given opportunity, and now, what, running away from your home? I just don’t understand!”

Hamlet stared at him tiredly, and took a sip of his coffee. “Look, I know you’re mad about me going to England-”

Claudius cut him off, “And running off all the time, that too.” 

“And that,” Hamlet glared at him. “But look, every single person my age goes to college. You went to college! And anyways, I’m an adult who can drive and I can do what I want. It’s none of your business where I go. Besides, when my friends aren’t literally in life or death situations, I might not feel the need to go help them.”

Claudius sputtered for a moment, and then said, “Well I just don’t like seeing your mother in such an upset state all the time! Ever since-”

“Ever since what?” Hamlet stood up. He knew what Claudius was going to say. Ever since his father had died. But Hamlet knew the truth. How could he have forgotten and ignored it for so long? This was the man who killed his father. Hamlet mused at how easy it would be to kill him right as he stood. So easy. 

Claudius stared at Hamlet hard. There was no way he could possibly know- 

“Fine! Go off to England! Do whatever you please! I don’t care, I’m just trying to do what’s best for my son and my country-!”

“It is NOT YOUR COUNTRY!” Hamlet shouted. “This is NOT your home! Nor am I your fucking ‘son’ either.” Hamlet added the last bit under his breath.

“I am warning you young man, don’t-”

“I am leaving! I’m gonna be out of here in a week! Just shut the hell up and leave me alone!” Hamlet was reeling.

“Excuse me!”

“AGH!” Hamlet ran out of the kitchen, and down the hall. 

He wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill him so much. 

Hamlet stopped after he was far from the kitchen, and waited until he couldn’t hear Claudius stomping around anymore. He put his back against the wall and slid down until his knees were touching his forehead. He wrapped his arms around his legs and tried to calm down. 

A small sound made him look up. Guildenstern had just come around the other corner and had stopped after he saw him. 

“You good?” He asked.

“Yeah, G, I’m fine, I just- wait,” Hamlet looked up at Guildenstern. “Did you just dye your hair?”

Guildenstern stood in front of him, with now bright blue-green fuzzy hair on top of his usual brown undercut. He smiled, “Like it? Anna helped me do it a couple hours ago.”

“It looks pretty good, actually,” Hamlet laughed. He’d seen Guildenstern with tons of different hair colors before. He always did it on a whim, and would emerge from his room with some kind of fluorescent coloring. “Don’t let Polonius see,” Hamlet laughed. He was strictly against, well, basically everything that Guildenstern did. 

“Oh no, I’m counting on it.” He grinned. Hamlet laughed and stood up. 

Just then, Annalise came around the corner, holding a platter full of new cupcakes. The scent flooded the hallway, and she stopped in front of them.

“Oh, hey guys! Want one? I’m taking one to Marc now!” She held the platter out to them and they each took one.

“Thanks, Anna.” Guildenstern said as he took off the wrapped and stuffed it in his mouth. 

“Yeah, no problem!” she said, and continued down the hall, Hamlet and Guildenstern following.

She walked to the room where they had set Marc up in, and she knocked on the door. After a quiet “come in” she gently opened the door, balancing the tray on one hand, and walked into the room. Mac was sitting on the end of his bed, reading a book.

“I made some cupcakes, do you want one?” Her voice was gentle, but still bright.

Marc hesitated, but then took one and thanked her. He had multiple places wrapped with a white cloth to help some of the burns heal quicker, and still looked like a ghost. His face was very pale, save for a few red spots that were still healing, and his eyes looked very tired, with a ring of purple underneath. 

“You’re looking a little better than yesterday! Did you sleep any better?” Anna asked in concern. She had made it her personal job to take care of the guys, and had religiously checked up on both, constantly making food and visiting them. She had been forced to pass it off to the others while she had been off at court for a few days, but now was back and ready to help. She was going to make this better any way she could.

“Hey, Marc, I won’t force you if you don’t want, but...” Hamlet walked further into the room, “We’re gonna go back to college soon, right after Horatio gets better enough to go, and if you wanna come too you definitely can. You don’t even have to take any classes, if you just wanna hang out with us.”

Marc thought for a moment. “It might be nice to have a little fresh air,” He mused softly. “Yeah, I’ll come. Thanks.” He gave a pained smile.

“Okay, great!” Hamlet smiled, and looked at Guildenstern. 

“We’re gonna take it really slow, but I definitely think getting away from here for a while would be a great idea,” Guildenstern added. Marc nodded. 

Annalise put a hand on Marc’s good shoulder, and rubbed it a little. Marc leaned his head against her hand, and smiled. “I told Horatio I’d go check up on him and bring him a cupcake, but I’ll be back in a little while.” She said. “Should I get anything for you while I’m out?”

Marc thought for a moment, but shook his head. “No, that’s okay. Anna,” he looked up at her. “Thank you. For everything. You’ve been absolutely amazing.”

Anna brightened. “I’m gonna do whatever I can to make this all okay.”

“Don’t stress yourself out too much, okay?” He looked at her seriously. He knew her habit of ignoring herself to help others. Her smile faltered, and she looked away for a moment. 

“Yeah, I will, thanks,” she said.

“Okay. Go see Horatio, he’s probably waiting for you guys.” Marc said, and the three of them left, closing the door quietly. Anna sighed, straightened her posture, took the tray of cupcakes from Guildenstern, and walked down the hall. 

They met up with Ophelia and Rosencrantz, and they went down to get the van. 

[zigsexual]

Theoreticals; part 1 (maxwell x mc)

lol remember when i started this in july and am just now posting it? also remember when i said that i would post it yesterday ha ha ha lol anyway it’s too long for one post so imma break this shit down into PARTS!!! 

this is the final companion piece to hypotheticals and empiricals, and honestly if you haven’t read those then u probably should because this one has a lot of plot throwback and also tbh its like very divergent from the main storyline seeing as i started writing it in JULY

summary: the coronation is actually happening feat. private planes, maxwell as a baby????? an unfortunate run in with some potpourri, dancing, drake, and an uber driver

word count: 3700+

Riley paces across her room yet again, halfheartedly feigning an attempt to pack for the upcoming trip to the palace. Her suitcase, empty but for a single black camisole and jeans, is splayed out across her bed next to Maxwell, who is also splayed out across her bed.

“Do you think I should bring my boots?” She asks. “My other shoes have like, no tread, and all of the roads by the palace are old-ass rocks so tread is probably important. And what if it rains?”

“I don’t think it’s supposed to rain,” Maxwell replies, but she’s already tossed the boots in his direction.

“Okay, so if I bring the boots, I need boot socks,” Riley tugs open a dresser drawer, rifling through it. “Except I’m pretty sure I only have red boot socks, and that’s going to clash with all my outfits, so maybe I should just stick with a bootie? Except then the tread is an issue again.”

Maxwell laughs. “Riley, it’s two days.”

She whirls around, brandishing a boot sock. “Yeah, two days in the goddamn palace!”

He breaks his gaze from the ceiling to watch her as she makes another futile pass towards her closet, sitting up and leaning back on his hands. “You really want to keep pretending you’re going to finish this tonight?”

She sighs, dropping her things onto the floor. “It’s already too late to give up.”

“Few more hours won’t hurt.” He reaches over and closes the lid, then holds out his hand. “Come on, let’s go on a walk. You’re all strung out.”

She takes his hand, in spite of herself yet again. Everything about him, about this, is in spite of herself and her better judgment. But it’s midnight on the eve of what may be their last chance at anything, and she doesn’t care that much anymore.

It’s dark in the house, the sconces dimmed, and they walk through the second floor hallways like they have the entire place to themselves. Maxwell is still holding her hand, his other shoved into his pocket, watching the portraits on the walls as they pass.

“Is that you?” Riley asks, pointing at one of the frames. It’s a painting of a boy who couldn’t be more than eight years old, posed like the subject of a renaissance art piece and clearly none too pleased about it. He’s got the same soft brown hair and mischievous eyes as Maxwell, his face dusted with freckles and mouth pulled into a barely concealed pout.

“Oh my god,” Maxwell laughs. “Yeah. That’s… yeah.”

“You were cute.” Riley bumps her hip against his, grinning. He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, looking at the painting sheepishly.

“My parents, they were really into the ‘nobles’ thing,” he says, “You know, ridiculous estates and portrait painting and etiquette classes, all that. I mean, I guess you have to be when you are a noble. I mostly let Bertrand handle that stuff now.”

Riley holds out her free hand and traces the curve of his painted face, the rough brush strokes in sweeping lines under her fingertips. She smiles.

“Bertrand would kill me if he knew I was letting you touch the paintings,” Maxwell says.

“Bertrand would kill you if he knew you were letting me touch you.”

“Touché.”

She steps back from the portrait, squeezing Maxwell’s hand gently. “Your parents, what were they like?”

He doesn’t say anything at first, and she worries she’s treaded into inadmissible territory. She turns to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, you don’t have to—“

“No, Riley,” he smiles, but it’s sad. “It’s fine.”

He looks up at the painting for a long moment, and she wonders how much of that baby-faced boy is still a part of him. He still has those faded freckles across his cheeks, that air of something…. more, like he’s privy to a thousand secrets one could never hope to know. She suddenly wishes he were as much of an open book as he likes to say he is.

“My parents were… well, I guess they’re pretty self-explanatory.”

“What do you mean?”

He’s still got his eyes on the painting, but his jaw is set. “You’ve been in the study.”

“Duh.”

He breaks for a moment, to shoot her a smile, but then he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “So, that’s my dad.”

“The study?”

“Yeah.” He frowns. “We didn’t change anything in there after he died. It just… felt weird. And there’s already all these rooms in this place, it’s not like we needed another one. So now it’s just there, filled with polo trophies and fencing equipment and all that ‘nobles’ shit.”

“And Drake,” she adds, a tentative step towards levity. Maxwell pulls her closer, letting go of her hand so he can slip his arm around her waist. He doesn’t have to say it, but she knows he’s grateful for the reprieve.

“And Drake. Unfortunately.” He looks at her and smiles. “You would’ve liked my mom.”

“Yeah?” Riley smiles back.

“Yeah. Well, I know she would’ve liked you, anyway.”

They make their way down the rest of the hall, passing more portraits and art pieces and the occasional odd sculpture, everything in brocade like something out of her high school history books. She runs her fingers across gilded wallpaper and marble shelves, still marveling at the fact that this, somehow, has become her life.

“What’s New York like?” Maxwell asks her. “I mean, I know what the tourist parts are like, thanks to Liam, but what’s your part like?”

“My part?” She tilts her head. “Uh, not that great, honestly. My part is a shitty studio in Queens with an elevator that doesn’t work, a roach problem, and a toilet that only flushes half the time. I don’t even have a bedframe, I just sleep with my mattress on the floor, and sometimes if I’m lucky, there isn’t a drunk guy peeing on my stoop when I come home from the late shift.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Maxwell says, and the funny thing is that she can’t quite tell if he’s joking or not.

“Can I quote you on that? My landlord keeps asking me to leave him a Yelp review.”

Maxwell looks puzzled. “I thought… you didn’t have nobility in America?”

Riley shoots him a bemused look. “We don’t.”

“But then, why would you…?”

It takes her a moment, but then she shoves his shoulder and laughs. “Oh my god, wait, are you talking about my landlord? That’s the guy who owns the place I rent. It’s just like, a name for rental property owners. God, you’re such a one-percenter.”

“Shut up,” He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Things are different in Cordonia, okay?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know what a landlord is. I can’t believe you thought landlords are literal lords of the land.”

Maxwell makes a face at her, and she doesn’t even remotely try to stifle her giggles. “Excuse you, the only ‘landlords’ I know are literal lords of the land, so it was a logical conclusion.”

Riley taps him on the nose before turning away dramatically, hand on her heart. “Deepest apologies, Lord Beaumont. I would never disrespect your status or your land.”

“Hilarious.” He crosses his arms, but he’s smiling.

“Please accept this token of my atonement,” she continues, lifting some imaginary skirts so as to further sashay down the hall, “Imported from the duchy of Newest York, one hundred — no — one thousand of our finest Manhattan pigeons.”

Riley dips down in a ridiculously low curtsey, stumbling forward a bit and catching herself with a laugh. “Perchance would you like to visit with one of our most prestigious landlords? He is so terribly fond of — Max!”

She shrieks as he comes up behind her, arms around her waist, pulling her close and spinning her. She can feel the breath of his laughter against her neck, his whispered, “Shhh, you’ll wake everyone up,” and the way his fingers linger on her when he sets her down.

Riley, flushed, brushes her hair out of her face and adjusts her shirt. “You’re the worst.”

“I accept your pigeons,” Maxwell says with mock formality. “And I would love to meet your landlord.”

“Oh, you really shouldn’t, the pigeons are fucking gross.”

“Okay, pass on the pigeons then.”

“My landlord is gross too.”

He sighs. “You’re not making a great case here.”

Riley smiles, and compelled with a sudden irresistible urge to touch him, reaches out and runs her fingers along his jawline. She almost expects to feel the brushstrokes there too, a perfect likeness of his childhood painting, all grown up and still off-limits.

“You could come visit, if you want,” she says softly. “The mattress is a twin, but we can make it work.”

He kisses her, and she closes her eyes and lets herself believe for a moment that they’re not here, not in this ridiculous world full of princes and balls and family portraits, but somewhere else, somewhere loud and brash and filled with the scent of street food and smoke and dreams yet to be realized.

But of course, they aren’t.

“Come on,” he says, his voice gentle against the sudden sharpness of the moment. “Let’s go finish packing.”

They walk back to the room hand-in-hand, and Maxwell helps her fold things and find things and then sits on the suitcase so she can shove everything in properly and zipper it away. The sky stops getting darker and starts getting lighter, and the laughter between them grows less practiced and more delirious as they finish up.

She smiles when she steps out of her bathroom, face washed and hair up, to find him tucked in against her pillow, finally stolen into sleep by his own exhaustion. It’s a rare occasion to find Maxwell so utterly still, and she stands there for a second watching him.

She’s known for quite some time that she’s fucked. This whole situation: the competition, the prince, the stupid stupid boys. She’s just fucked, no way around it.

But as she lingers in the doorway, memorizing the rise and fall of his chest, it occurs to her that she is now — for lack of a better term — royally fucked.

---

It’s as if she’s barely slept at all when she feels his hand on her shoulder. “Riley? Hey, time to get up.”

She burrows her face back towards her pillow, trying desperately to shut out the light filtering in through the curtains. Maxwell, however, refuses to be shut out.

“We’re leaving in an hour or so, if you want to get ready.” He sounds just as tired as she feels, and she realizes then that he’s most likely spent the entire night here, with her, probably shoved into the corner while she bundled herself in covers. The thought makes her sit up suddenly, blinking blearily into Maxwell’s face, only a few inches from hers.

“Oh,” he says. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she says back.

They look at each other for a moment, Riley squinting up at him as she adjusts to the rush of sunlight. Under the sudden scrutiny of his gaze, she pulls the blankets up around her, a flush spreading into her cheeks as she realizes what she must look like: hair a tangled mess, sleep marks across her face, oversized t-shirt hanging in a particularly unflattering way.

“What’s the ‘Knicks’?” Maxwell asks.

“Hmm?” She quirks an eyebrow in confusion, and he nods at her shirt. She looks down. “Oh. Basketball team. They’re the… uh, the professional team for New York.”

“Do you like them?”

“I like their shirts.”

He laughs, turning away from her to slip down onto the floor. “Sometime, will you teach me what basketball is?”

“You guys don’t have basketball in Cordonia?” Riley lets the blankets fall back around her and pushes herself out of the bed with the intent to follow him, but the hardwood is like ice against her feet. She lingers near the familiar warmth of the covers while she watches him go.

“We don’t have a lot of stuff in Cordonia,” he answers. “Basketball, Disneyland, those breakfast things you like.”

“Pop-tarts?” Riley grins, crossing her arms. “Yeah, real bummer on that one.”

“Prom, Costco, monster trucks,” Maxwell continues, “And we’ve barely even got you for much longer, so.”

The words hit her harder than expected, and the smile drops from her face just as her arms fall to her sides. The chill of the floor spreads up from her feet, twisting its way through her body and settling in her heart.

Maxwell heads towards her suitcase. He lifts it down off the table, yanks the handle up until it clicks. “Come on, you gotta get dressed. I’ll take your bag out to the car.”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “Will you come back?”

He turns his head, eyes ghosting over her face as she bites harder into her lip.

“Riley…” he says, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, totally.” She crosses her arms over her chest, pulling her shoulders up in what she hopes looks like a nonchalant shrug. “Just, big day, you know.”

“Understatement.” He smiles at her, and the sinking feeling subsides.

“What should I wear?” she asks, in a feeble attempt to keep him in the room a few moments longer.

“Definitely just that. The king and queen will be so impressed.”

“Shut up.” She sticks her tongue out, reaching back to pull the comforter up from the bed and around her shoulders before crossing toward the closet.

“No I’m serious, the press will not be able to stop talking about it. Bertrand will love that.”

She whacks him with the comforter as she passes. “You know what else Bertrand will love?”

“What?”

“You spending the night in my room.”

He laughs. “Okay, okay, point taken.” He turns to grab her suitcase, but not fast enough to keep her from noticing the blush rising in his cheeks. She laughs too, pulling open her closet door.

“Go get dressed,” he calls after her, “I’m actually taking your stuff out this time.”

“As you wish, Lord Beaumont.” She twirls around to drop in a curtsey, blowing him a kiss as he makes a face at her and heads out the door.

---

Riley wakes up to Maxwell once more, her face smashed in against his shoulder in the back of the car. She lifts her head, blinking the sleep out of her eyes, only to meet Bertrand’s disapproving ones.

“You have lines on your face,” he says disdainfully. “You look wretched.”

Riley sits up, rolling her neck and wincing. “Thanks, B. Are we at the airport?”

“Yeah,” Maxwell answers, seemingly unfazed by her using his arm for a pillow. She hopes she didn’t drool. “There’s coronation traffic, but that’s to be expected. We’ll be at the plane in five.”

Riley looks out the window, expecting to see the familiar bustle of brake lights and taxicabs that punctuate all her visits to JFK. However, all she finds is a great wide sea of black tarmac and planes.

She turns to Maxwell and Bertrand. “Wait, where are we?”

“The airport.”

“No, I — yeah, I know that. But where are the people?”

Maxwell looks confused. “…On the planes?”

“Don’t we, y’know, have to go through security and stuff? Or is that not a thing in Cordonia? Or like, don’t I need to show someone my passport and check my bag?” She nods her head in the direction of the trunk. “That thing is not gonna fit in an overhead compartment, I can already promise you that.”

The car slows to a stop and Maxwell laughs. “What? Riley, we’re broke, but we aren’t fly commercial broke.”

Riley says “Oh,” and then someone in a full suit and black sunglasses is opening her car door and saying, “Lady Riley, I’ll be taking your bags,” and she says “Oh,” and Maxwell says, “Thanks, they’re in the trunk.”

Riley whips her head around to face him, eyes wide. Maxwell shrugs. “Liam has a plane.”

Her eyes go even wider, and she pauses to make sure Bertrand is mostly out of earshot before whispering, “You didn’t think to tell me we’d be in an enclosed space with Liam for an extended period of time?”

He smiles sheepishly. “Well, the thought crossed my mind, but I was worried you’d try to cut your losses and run before we got here. And besides, he told me he wanted some time with you. To talk about something.”

Riley shoots him a pointed look before turning to slide out of the car. Talk to her about something! Great. What a mystery as to what it could possibly be.

The man in the suit, most likely a member of Liam’s security team, is already unloading their things from the trunk. She squints into the sunlight, eyes settling on the enormous white jet just a few hundred feet from their stop, its wings ringed with gold and an egregiously large Cordonian seal plastered along the side.

“Discreet,” Riley mutters, sighing as she heads off towards the staircase lowered down from the plane’s back entrance. She’s never boarded a plane like this before, not without hours of waiting and TSA screenings and watching as every other boarding group took their place ahead of her in line. The tiny staircase seems too easy, and the staff waiting at the bottom are too quick to offer her their arms as she climbs up into the ridiculous fixture of luxury.

As she makes her way inside, wandering slowly towards the aisle, she gawks at the interior: a scaled down recreation of the palace sitting areas, complete with ornate lamps and crystal stemware and what looks to be an entire grand piano off in the corner. Riley feels her stomach clench at the sight of it all, a reminder of how desperately she doesn’t belong in this world of opulence and glamour.

There’s a rustle of a curtain and footsteps behind her, and she turns, expecting to see Maxwell on his way in. She’s already whispering, “Max, I think I should—” before her eyes settle on the person who’s actually in front of her and she stops mid-sentence. “Oh, fuck.”

Drake looks her over and frowns.

“What are you doing here?!” she hisses, shoving him in the shoulder. “And why are you sneaking up on me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answers, leveled. “Pretty sure your boyfriend is still back at the car.”

Riley shakes her head, letting out an agonized sigh. “I am truly not in the mood for this, Drake.”

“Aldridge, you going soft? Can’t handle the banter anymore?”

“On Liam’s goddamn plane? Yeah, maybe it’s not the ideal choice of venue.” She crosses her arms, but her defense wavers. “Drake… you didn’t… I mean, you didn’t say anything, did you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Relax, I’m not that much of an asshole. Liam’s on a conference call in the diplomat suite anyway.”

“Diplomat suite?”

“It’s a big fucking plane.”

Riley lets her hands fall back to her sides, glancing around the room once more, eyes following the rows of soft leather seats.

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

He shrugs, looking everywhere but at her. “I know you’ll talk to him. You don’t need me to do it for you.”

She lets out a sigh. “Maxwell said he invited me on the plane so we could talk, so if you’re awaiting my downfall, it might come sooner than you think.”

“I’m not —” Drake looks taken aback, “Riley, come on, you know that’s not how I feel.”

She starts to say something in reply, but the sounds of footsteps coming up the staircase echo loudly into the cabin. Drake turns, and Riley feels her nervous tension ease. Maxwell is finally here, he’ll know how to handle Drake and she can just —

“Riley,” an all too familiar voice calls, “Is that you harping on and on in there?”

Riley grabs Drake’s arm, face twisted in horror, and mouths, Olivia? He nods, looking slightly pained, and then there she is at the landing — mouth twisted in distaste, red hair spilling out of a white fur hat, sheathed in some sort of emerald green evening coat that could probably cover Riley’s apartment rent for the next ten years.

Her mouth curls up into a smile when she sees them. “Oh lovely, I was right.”

She steps into the room, her heels clicking against the hardwood, and drapes her arm across Drake’s shoulder, leaning against him as she surveys Riley. “You do know we’re going to a coronation ball, right?”

“Wonderful to see you too, Olivia,” Riley replies with a grimace.

Olivia smiles again, straightening up and patting Drake dismissively on the back. “Hey Drake, will you be a dear and roll out the bar cart? I have a feeling we’re going to need some drinks.”

Drake rolls his eyes so hard it almost looks painful. “Sure Olivia, I will happily roll out the bar cart. For myself.”

As he turns and pushes past her, she frowns, watching him walk away with a hand on her hip. When he disappears through the cabin door, she looks back at Riley. “Is he always so pleasant?”

“Pretty much, yeah. You’d think you two would get along.”

Olivia arches an eyebrow. “Cute.”

She hears someone else coming up the stairs and prays it’s Maxwell this time. When she sees him step inside, she releases an audible sigh.

“Hey Riley, did Bertrand already come up here? I think he — oh.” His eyes fall on Olivia, who flutters her fingers in a wave. “Olivia?”

“And Drake.” Riley smiles through gritted teeth. “Isn’t it wonderful? Gang’s all here.”

Maxwell blinks. “Uh. Cool?”

Drake emerges from the door then, glass in hand, and stops short when he sees Maxwell. “Hey Max! Long time no see. Great talking with you in the study last night.”

Riley glares with the ferocity of a thousand suns. Maxwell blinks again. Olivia looks between all three of them and rolls her eyes. “You guys are so fucking weird.”

She turns toward the closest seat and settles in, draping her legs across the length of it so the red bottoms of her high heels are on full display. She pulls an eye mask out of her purse, tugging it over her head. “I’m going to take a Xanax and listen to Ryan’s Roses. Do not even think about speaking to me.”

“Trust me,” Riley says under her breath, “It was the least of our concerns.”

part two.

[spartanguard]

some things never change (2/?)

continuing (finally) my OUAT S7 spec fic. this will have at last 4 parts; not sure exactly how many yet, but we’ll see how the ideas flow. I 100% do not expect most of this to happen, but a girl can dream! this chapter: Hooked Queen brotp and Captain Cobra, with a wee bit of Grandpa!Killian

part 1 | 2.5k

Lunches with his sister were always more dramatic than they needed to be. To be honest, Killian wasn’t completely sure why he put himself through them so often.

“Seriously, Killian. One date wouldn't hurt you.”

“The answer is no, Regina; we’ve been over this.”

She sighed. “I know, I know. But she's really sweet! She teaches the first-graders!”

“That's fantastic, but I'll have to pass.”

Regina harrumphed into her salad. They had this conversation literally every week: she wanted to set him up with one of her cute coworkers, and he wanted to be left alone. Out of a nervous habit, he twirled his wedding band with his thumb.

“You know that she wouldn't want you to be like this,” Regina said quietly, placing her hand over his to stop the nervous fiddling.

“I know,” he admitted, and he did. But the few times he’d tried to go on dates, it just never clicked. Emma had been the only one for him, and it wasn't fair to another girl to try to fill that void with something unattainable.

“I just worry about you, all alone up there at the bar.”

“I’m not alone; I have my regulars.”

“Customers don’t count as friends, Killian.”

“Since when? They did on Cheers.”

“That was a TV show!”

“I’ll have you know being a bartender is not a role for the introverted. People trust you with their deepest, darkest secrets, and come to you for advice.”

“You’re romanticizing it.”

“You’d know better if you ever stopped by.”

Regina just scoffed and continued eating, so Killian followed suit and bit into his sandwich. His big sister was right that his existence was a bit of a lonely one, but it at least wasn’t boring. He had fond memories to look back on and a livelihood he enjoyed. And he didn’t have false hope, unlike some people he knew, but he’d save that discussion for another day.

Typical Regina, she changed the subject anyway. “When’s the last time you talked to Uncle?”

Of course, it was to one of his least favorite. “I texted him on his birthday.”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“That was six months ago!”

“And?”

She sighed again. “I just wish you wouldn't hold this grudge against him.”

“I’m not the one who basically said ‘I told you so’ at the funeral of your murdered wife,” he spat back in a rare moment of anger. The man may have basically raised them, but some wounds tend to linger. He’d let go of most of his negative feelings—he barely even thought about the asshole who killed his wife; the justice system was seeing that he got his—but hearing it from family who'd never liked her in the first place still stung.

The rest of lunch passed in a terse silence, both finishing their meals quickly in order to leave sooner. He loved his sister, he did, but every now and then they had these weird fights caused by all the lingering baggage in their pasts.

Finally, meal over and bill paid for, he followed her out to the parking lot. Before getting into her car, she turned to face him and pulled him into a bruising hug. “I love you, Killian, no matter what,” she murmured.

He hugged back tight. “Love you too, big sis.” Despite their disagreements, they were really all each other had. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, they said their goodbyes, and he began the quick walk back to the bar.

As he walked, he mulled over some of the things Regina had said. Yeah, he was a bit of loner, but solitude had never much bothered him. There were times—more often than he’d like to admit—that things felt a bit empty, like something was missing, but ultimately chalked that up to the loss of Emma.

His thoughts wandered a bit to Henry; while it was true that he probably couldn’t call any of his other regular patrons a friend, he’d found an interesting companionship with the young man. Though there wasn’t a significant age gap between them, he’d always felt a bit of a fatherly connection with Henry that he couldn't quite explain. Then he remembered what the lad had told him yesterday, and put a bit of speed in his steps; he truly was honored that Henry would want to introduce him, of all people, to his daughter, especially when he’d only just learned of the girl’s existence.

When he arrived back at the bar, he wasn’t surprised to see Henry already at a booth, with a short, dark-haired person sitting across from him. Bill, one of his few employees, was manning both the bar and kitchen for the meager lunch rush, and it looked like Henry and Lucy were eating. They were hunched over their baskets of food, talking quietly and clearly in collusion. Considering they’d just met, they already seemed to be as thick as thieves. A pang shot through Killian’s heart; he and Emma had never gotten to the having-kids thing, so he was happy that Henry would have this experience.

He hung his leather jacket on a hook by the door and nodded a greeting to Bill. Suddenly, he was nervous to approach Henry, though he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he didn’t want to interrupt what was clearly a bonding moment? Or was it something about the girl that felt...off?

(Not a bad off, but he’d had an odd moment of déja vu when Henry said her name the previous day that he couldn’t quite place.)

Nevertheless, he swallowed and took cautious steps toward their table. When Henry noticed his approach, he broke into a big grin, but then seemed to pull it back to a friendly smile—though one he could hardly contain. Killian was a bit taken aback at Henry’s enthusiasm, but it was understandable, he supposed; this must be a fine young lady if he was so eager to show her off. It eased a bit of Killian’s nervousness.

When he was within earshot, he could hear Henry whisper “Remember what we talked about” to the girl, before standing to properly greet him. “Hey, Killian!”

“Hello, lad,” he said warmly, offering his hand, which Henry eagerly took after slight hesitation.

He then gestured to the opposite booth. “Killian, I’d very much like you to meet my daughter, Lucy.”

Again, that sense of familiarity took over Killian as he looked at the girl. She was adorable—about ten years old, with curious brown eyes, tan skin, and a friendly smile. He extended his hand to her, too, adding, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, milady.”

She stared at his hand for a moment, and then, to his surprise, jumped off the seat and barrelled into him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. Her voice was muffled by the way her face was pressed against his stomach. “I can’t believe I’m finally—”

“Lucy,” Henry cut her off with a warning tone.

“—Uh, meeting you, Gr-Killian!” she finished, albeit sheepishly. Once he got over his momentary shock, Killian returned her embrace, though a bit more gently.

After a long moment, she pulled back, giving him a huge grin, before hopping back up in the booth and scooting to the far end. She pat her hand on the open space, saying, “Come, sit down!”

“Do you have a moment to sit and talk?” Henry asked with some awareness of the fact that this was still Killian’s place of work.

But it was early yet, and the middle of the week, so it wasn’t likely he’d have customers until much later. “Sure,” he answered, and slid in next to Lucy.

He took a peek at her plate—grilled cheese and onion rings; Emma’s favorite. He pointed at it, commenting, “You have excellent taste, milady.”

She giggled—a sound that warmed his heart, for some inexplicable reason—and exchanged a look with her father. Killian looked to Henry, who was smirking.

“Am I missing something?” How were two people who had just met already sharing inside jokes?

“Don’t worry about it,” Henry brushed off. Killian cocked his head in confusion, but was then distracted by a flurry of movement from Lucy.

“Do you wanna see my book?” She had pushed the plate to the side to make room for a large, hardcover book that was nearly half her size. It looked well-loved and Once Upon A Time was printed on the front in faded lettering.

“What’s it about?” he asked, never one to curb a child’s excitement.

“It’s about my fa—”

“—Fairy tales,” Henry interrupted again. “It’s about fairy tales, though maybe not the ones you know.”

It had been years since Killian read any fantasy stories, but Lucy’s enthusiasm—and whatever the two of them seemed to be hiding—piqued his interest. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the tome.

Lucy nodded and pushed it toward him. His hand hovered over the cover before opening it. There was no title page; it opened on an illustration of a prince and princess hugging. He glanced over the text to find the story of Snow White, but far different from what he knew. A few pages later was an alternate tale of Cinderella, as well as that of Hansel and Gretel. It was quite impressive.

“Dad, it’s not working!” Lucy whisper-yelled from next to him.

Killian glanced up from the image he was studying—of a true-to-nature Jiminy Cricket—and was confused. “What’s not?”

Henry looked slightly panicked, and Lucy seemed frustrated. But Henry quickly regained his calm. “Uh, do you want to come outside with us for a minute?”

“What’s going on?” It was unlike Henry to be this secretive, and Killian was starting to grow worried for the young man.

“Just...I just need to show you something.” Without another word, Henry slid out of the booth and took off for the door.

Whatever was happening, Killian felt compelled to make sure he was alright. So he too slipped out and followed, grabbing his coat and slipping it on before heading outside.

Henry was already walking across the way toward the docks; Killian jogged to catch up. Suddenly, Lucy was sprinting past him into the street, and he only just managed to grab her shoulder before she ran out into it alone—how had no one told her the dangers of running into busy roads? They ran across together once traffic cleared and hurried to meet up with Henry, who was boarding one of the moored vessels.

Killian stared at the ship in awe: it was an old-fashioned sailing ship, all wood, two masts, and the sails carefully stowed away. Déja vu struck again when he set foot on the deck, and it almost felt like the ship was greeting him. That was impossible, of course, but he couldn’t shake the feeling, and it just added to the overall weirdness of this entire situation.

“Henry, is this ship yours?” Killian wondered aloud as he glanced around. Lucy had dashed to the prow and was running her hand along the railing fondly, as if she was reuniting with an old friend.

Henry shook his head. “No. It’s yours.”

Killian snapped his head to Henry’s. “Beg your pardon?” He’d never owned so much as a sailboat, let alone a ship.

He was expecting a joke, but Henry seemed sure of what he was saying. “The helm is yours, Captain,” he said warmly, gesturing to the massive wooden wheel.

The title made Killian flinch; there was that niggling sense of familiarity again, but he didn't know why—he'd only reached lieutenant in the Navy. Perhaps it was a Star Trek reference? (He'd always been more a Star Wars fan himself.)

But, no—this was genuine, and concern again pooled in his belly. “Henry, is everything quite alright?” he asked quietly, not wanting to alarm the little lass.

He chuckled. “Everything’s fine. Just...humor me?” It was a request more than a demand, and there was something boyish in his expression that Killian was finding hard to disappoint.

So he complied, casting once last sideways glance at Henry before ascending the steps to the bridge. It couldn't hurt him to play along with whatever this was for a few minutes.

It was truly magnificent—a work of ancient craftsmanship. In the leather topping the helm’s pedestal, a series of crossed-out symbols were carved. He briefly ran a finger through the indents—and an image flashed in his mind, of a young boy and an overall sense of betrayal. He stepped back in shock. “What the bloody hell was that?”

He was keenly aware of two sets of eyes on him and his exclamation. Was he being set up? He looked back at Henry, who gave him a knowing nod—but what was it that he knew?

And, based on the vision he’d just had, why did it give him the feeling that he was the one forgetting something?

Hesitantly, he approached the wheel. The polished wood was well-worn and just standing in front of it filled him with a sense of peace, which was odd because had no idea how to sail this kind of ship. But the fond smile Henry was giving made him somehow believe he had.

Gingerly, he reached out to grab one of the spokes of the wheel...and it all washed over him:

LiamMilahNeverlandSmeePanBae—

He staggered a bit, but held tight to the wheel.

—CoraStorybrookeBlackbeardEmma—

He gasped.

—EmmaEmmaCharmingSnowEmmaBelleReginaEmmaHenryLucy—

“EMMA!” he shouted, eyes flying open as his entire life slammed into him: all the years, all the heartache, and all the beautiful memories he made with his True Love—who was quite obviously not dead...though he didn't know where exactly she was.

Suddenly, Henry was in front of him. “Hook?” he greeted, smirking.

And then it hit him—this was Henry, his stepson, who found him and now had woked him up. “Oh, lad,” he sighed, and pulled him in tight for a long overdue hug that was reciprocated in full.

A small voice interrupted their embrace. “Grandpa Killy?” They broke apart and Lucy was looking up, a hopeful expression on her face. It had clearly been a few years since whatever curse took them away because she'd grown since he last saw her, quite a bit—and he missed it all. “My darling, Lucy,” he exclaimed, bending down to scoop her up; at least she wasn't too big for him to twirl around. “You found us.”

Her little arms wrapped tight around his neck and she buried her face in his neck. “I missed you,” she whispered.

“And I you, love, so much.” The past few years were a fog, but he knew why they had been so empty—he needed the rest of his family.

He looked to Henry. “Where is…” he started, trailing off because he wasn't sure he wanted to know if something bad had happened to his wife.

“We don't know yet,” Henry replied, knowing the question. “But if you're awake, we're one step closer to finding her, and everyone.”

“Aye.” He pulled Lucy tighter, resolved to do whatever it took to reunite everyone. “We’ll always find them.”

tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @its-like-a-story-of-love @shipsxahoy @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @fairytalesandtimetravel @disastergirl @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @the-captains-ayebrows @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thegladelf @leiandcharles @galadriel26 @capitaine-odette and a few others who wanted tags: @crisanja @superchocovian @fangirl-till-it-hurts @cjanddilly (apologies if i missed anyone/am being annoying lol)

[princesse-de-ravenclaw]

Clueless

Request: Hey, I just love your imagines and could I request about a Sirius imagine where the two of them have been the closest of friends for years and Sirius loves her so one day he’s like “Fuck it” and runs over to her and kisses her and when they finally pull apart she goes “what took you so long?” THANK YOU SO MUCH (sorry this was so specific) 😍😍😍😍😂

Word Count: 4,170

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“Budge over,” Y/N gave Sirius a gentle nudge as she tried to sit down next to him in the common room. “But I’m so comfortable,” Sirius smirked, stretching out even further across the couch. “Sirius,” Y/N whined. She tried to shove him to one side of the couch, but he wouldn’t budge. “Fine,” she sighed dramatically before throwing herself into his lap and obnoxiously sprawling out on top of him. “Fine,” He laughed, not bothering to try to move her. “Are you going to move now?” She asked him triumphantly. “Mm, nope. Don’t think so,” he shrugged. “Okay, I tried,” Y/N sighed, moving to stand up, but Sirius wrapped his arms and legs around her so she couldn’t move. “No! Spend time with me!” He shouted, burying his face into her neck. “Then move!” She laughed, trying to squirm out of his grip. “But you’re so warm,” he whined, holding onto her tighter. “You are a pain, Sirius,” She shook her head with a laugh, but nonetheless stopped trying to escape his strong grip. “If you’re going to hold me captive here, can I at least get comfortable?” Y/N asked after a few minutes of silence. “I am not holding you captive, you love this,” Sirius corrected her. “But, yes. C'mhere,” He let go of her for only a second as she got comfortable on the couch, and began to reach for a book out of her bag on the floor.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N don’t you dare reach for that horrid book,” Sirius warned. “You don’t even know what book it is!” Y/N protested. “I know that it is going to take your attention away from me, therefore it is horrid,” Sirius stated, matter-of-factly. “You’re so needy,” Y/N laughed, ruffling his hair. “Oi! Be careful with m'hair!” He whined, but made no effort to stop her from continuing to run her fingers through his locks. “Sirius, your hair is a mess. I couldn’t possibly do anything to mess it up,” she told him. “I like it messy,” Sirius pouted. “I’m making a statement,” he declared, causing the girl to laugh. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, buddy,” she laughed, patting his head before continuing to play with his hair. “Feels nice,” he admitted with a content sigh after a few minutes of more silence. Y/N nudged her nose against his head and hummed in acknowledgement. “Sleepy?” He asked her. “Little bit,” she admitted with a small nod. Sirius began to draw patterns on her arm with his fingers.

“For the record, I could have been reading this whole time,” she said sleepily after a few more minutes of silence. “No, you’re spending time with me,” Sirius pouted. “We aren’t even talking,” Y/N laughed. “We’re bonding!” Sirius cried dramatically. Y/N laughed and shook her head, but she snuggled into him, losing the energy to do anything but take a nap.

“Sirius!” A high pitched squeal woke Y/N from her peaceful nap.

“Hm?” Sirius replied, his voice heavy with sleep. “Oh, did I wake you? I’m so sorry,” the girl with the annoyingly familiar voice told him. “’S fine. What’s up, Penny?” Sirius asked. Y/N’s eyes shot open at this to find that it was, in fact, who she was afraid it was. “Your sleepy voice is so cute! Anyways, I’ve been looking for you all afternoon. I was gonna see if you wanted to go hang out by the black lake tonight?” Penny asked him. Her feigned innocence made Y/N want to vomit. “Yeah, Sure-” “Pads.. it’s Friday,” Y/N interrupted him. “We’ve spent the afternoon together, thats enough, right?” He asked. “I’ll go with Penny tonight, and then I’ll spend the night with you tomorrow,” he offered after seeing the dissatisfied look on Y/N’s face. “You’re joking,” Y/N shook her head, astounded that he was choosing Penny over her. “Love, it’s just one night…” he said gently. “Whatever,” Y/N rolled her eyes and snatched her belongings up off of the floor. “Have fun,” She snapped at him before she made her way to her dorm.

After a few hours of sulking alone in her dorm, James burst in the door. “I really hope you two aren’t shagging- where’s padfoot?” He asked. “Hilarious, James. Really,” Y/N snapped. “He’s at the black lake with Penny.” “Why in the bloody hell is he with Penny? It’s Friday! And she’s Penny!” James cried, throwing himself next to Y/N on the bed. “Because Penny is the sweetest, prettiest little flower of a human bring to ever exist!” Y/N feigned excitement, and then rolled her eyes. “I have never hated someone so much, Prongs,” Y/N huffed. “I know.. why doesn’t Sirius know that?” James asked. “I’ve never complained to him about her because I didn’t even know he knew her!I’ve seen them anywhere near each other until today!” Y/N said, exasperated. “Then She just strolls up, while Sirius and I are in the middle of a nap, and wakes us up to ask him to go out!” “Like a normal Sirius and Y/N nap?” James asked. “What does that even mean?” Y/N laughed slightly. “I mean like was he cuddling you to the point that you were almost suffocating?” James chuckled. “Yes. When isn’t he?” Y/N asked, confused.

“So you’re telling me that Penny strolled up while Padfoot was literally engulfing you and asked him out?” James asked incredulously. Y/N only nodded. “Why on earth..” James muttered. “Is it not enough for her to take away every guy I try to date? Now she wants my best friend, too?” Y/N’s voice changed from anger to sadness, and James looked up to find her blinking back tears. “Hey, she isn’t taking Padfoot away from you! It’s just one night. He loves you,” James assured her, scooting closer to lay an arm around her shoulders. “James, you know how it happens every time,” Y/N whispered. “He’s your best friend. You know that you come first,” James tried. “I come first, but the first time she asks him to hang out, it’s on our night and he blows me off?” Y/N raised an eyebrow before shrugging out of James’ grip and flopping back onto the bed. “Well… you shouldn’t just stay here and be upset about it. Why don’t you come to the forest with me, Moony, and Wormtail?” James offered. “We’re gonna have a fire and roast marshmallows, and make s'mores…” he trailed off. “I might as well,” Y/N shrugged, hopping off of her bed and putting on her shoes. “Atta girl!” James grinned. “We’re gonna have the best night ever.”

The four of them did, in fact have a great night. James, Remus, and Peter did a good job of keeping Y/N’s mind off of Sirius and Penny. She almost forgot she was mad at him, until he approached her at breakfast the following morning. “Hey, Love! Ready to spend the day together?” He asked as he threw his arm around her shoulder. Y/N moved out of his grip and stood up, “No.” “But we’re supposed to spend today together,” disappointment was evident in his voice, but Y/N wasn’t ready to give in. “Our night wasn’t important to you yesterday, your makeup day isn’t important to me today,” she shrugged. Sirius grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving. “Love, don’t be like that. You know that our time is important to me. That’s why I planned a makeup day today… Because I want to spend time with you..” he sighed. “Bummer,” Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her arm out of his grip. Sirius searched for a reason to make her stay, when he spotted her uneaten breakfast. “At least stay and finish your breakfast. We can work this out while you eat…” he pleased. “I lost my appetite,” Y/N said nonchalantly, and left the great hall.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Lily asked as Sirius threw himself face-first onto a couch in the common room. “Y/N completely blew off our day together today,” Sirius huffed, before dramatically shoving his face back into the cushion. “I mean, you did kind of do the same thing to her last night, so you really can’t be mad at her, mate…” James spoke up. “Wait, You cancelled on her last night?” Lily asked. “Well, yeah-” Sirius started. “Then where was she? When she didn’t come back to the room, I assumed she was spending the night with you?” Lily cut him off. “I invited her to spend the night in the woods with me and Moony and Wormtail because she was upset,” James told Lily. “Why was she so upset? It was just one night. And I spent all afternoon with her,” Sirius tried to defend himself. “Yeah, but it was YOU GUYS’ night. And you ditched her for Penny,” James told him.

“You did not ditch her on YOUR night for Penny!” Lily gasped. “What’s wrong with Penny? I didn’t have a particularly spectacular time with her, but I didn’t think she was horrible…” Sirius sat up. “Sirius, do you remember why things didn’t work out with Y/N and Andrew?” Lily asked him. “Um…” Sirius thought for a minute. “Andrew decided to stop seeing her because he started seeing a girl called Penny,” he finally remembered. “And why did Benjamin stop taking her out after a few months?” James asked him. Sirius pondered this. “Because he started taking out… Penny…” he supplied slowly. “And why did she and William break up two months ago after they were in a relationship for over a year?” Lily raised and eyebrow.

Sirius’ face dropped when he remembered the night that Y/N came to his dorm, crying her eyes out. It had taken him 30 minutes to calm her down enough to explain that her boyfriend, her first serious boyfriend, had broken up with her because he had cheated on her with Penny, and he wanted to go after a serious relationship with her. “Her broke up with her because he started fooling around with Penny.. oh, Merlin! I didn’t even realize! How could I be so clueless?” Sirius jumped off of the couch. “I’ve got to go apologize!”

“Y/N,” Sirius called softly as he knocked on her door. “No thank you,” she called back. Sirius tried to open the door, only to find it locked. “Love, will you please just open the door?” He asked. “Don’t really feel like it,” Y/N replied. “Y/N, Babe, I didn’t mean to make you upset, you know that…” No answer. “Baby, I really wanna spend time with you,” he whined. “Yeah? Well I have better things to do. Why don’t you go ask Penny, since spending time with her is obviously so important to you as well?” Y/N snapped. Sirius sighed and made his way back to his room, determined to find something to draw Y/N out of her dorm.

By the time Sirius found Y/N’s favorite book, the one she always read when she couldn’t sleep, or when she had nothing else to do, or when Sirius asked her to read to him- Y/N was gone. “What do you mean she’s gone? She was just here!” Sirius groaned. “She was gone when we got here,” Lily shrugged. Sirius huffed, considering all the places she might be. “Pads, I know you’re frustrated, but you two spend every Friday night together, and you left her last night for the girl who has made it her mission to make Y/N hurt. She’s gonna be upset with you for a little bit,” James told him. “Thats why I have to find her! I have to tell her I’m sorry and that no one, especially not Penny, will ever be as important to me as she is. I love Y/N!” Sirius exclaimed. James and Lily shared a look as Sirius took off to find Y/N.

He started by checking the library, only to find that she wasn’t there. He then checked the black lake, but Y/N wasn’t there, either. When he finally found her, she was sitting under a tree in the forbidden Forrest, reading a book. “Been looking for you everywhere,” he said quietly as he approached her. “Okay?” She shrugged, and scooted away from him as he sat down next to her. Y/N knew she was being childish, but she was hurt, and she wasn’t ready to forgive him just yet.  "Love, will you please just let me apologize?“ Sirius sighed. “I really don’t want to hear it, Sirius,” she huffed as she stood up and left. “Merlin, I messed up,” Sirius said to himself, shaking his head.

Y/N avoided Sirius for the rest of the day, and when night fell, Sirius found himself alone in his dorm, guzzling down a bottle of firewhiskey. How could he have been so stupid? He had known the whole time how Y/N felt about Penny, but he hadn’t put 2 and 2 together. What kind of jerk ditches his best friend for the ONE PERSON she doesn’t like? What kind of jerk ditches his best friend for any girl at all? Sirius thought to himself. I’m the worst. I have to apologize. That’s it! I’m sure if I show her how sorry I am, she’ll have to forgive me! Sirius decided, standing up and drunkenly marching to Y/N’s dorm, ignoring the fact that it was extremely late. Somehow, in his drunken stupor, he still managed to disarm the girls’ stairway.

Y/N was still awake, reading a book and sulking a bit, when the pounding started on her door. “Baby! Please open the door!” Sirius yelled from the other side. Y/N shot out of bed and slammed the door open. “Y/N!-Baby!” Sirius grinned, still shouting when the door opened. “Sirius! Shut up! Are you mad? It’s 2:30 in the morning!” Y/N whisper-yelled at him. “’M sorry baby! ’M so so so so s-sorry!” He slurred, leaping into her arms. “I love you so much, ’m s'sorry,” he said into her hair. “Sirius, are you drunk?” Y/N pulled away from him to look him in the eye. He opened his mouth with the intention of telling her ‘no,’ but he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eye and lie. “A lil,” he admitted. “But I lo-love ya, baby and I’m really really s-sorry!” He threw himself back into her arms, causing both of them to fall on the floor in the doorway. “Y/N,” Lily groaned sleepily from her bed. “Make him shut up.” “’M workin’ on it,” Y/N huffed as Sirius continued rambling on about how sorry he was, “’M sorry, baby. So s-sorry-”

“Okay, okay. Sirius, please stop talking. I get it. You’re sorry. Let’s get you into bed, okay?” Y/N shushed him. “You’ll let me stay?” He asked her hopefully. “Yes. Please just be quiet,” Y/N sighed, as she stood up, helping Sirius up as well. “I love you s'much, baby. You’re the most important thing in the world to me!” Sirius told her as she walked him to the bed. “Sirius, you are shouting,” Y/N said sternly. “’M sorry. I love you,” he slurred in a whisper. “Sirius, please just shut up,” Y/N sighed. “No! You’re still mad at me! ’M sorry, baby! Didn’t mean t’ make ya upset! I'love ya, baby!” He shouted, tightening his grip on her as she walked him to the bed. “Y/N!” Lily whined. “Okay, okay. I love you, too. You know that, Padfoot. You know I love you,” Y/N said quietly. “I know ya love m’ but y’re mad at me b'cause I went out with Penny when I'shoulda been with you,” Sirius whined, stopping in his tacks and pulling Y/N flush against him, burying his face into her neck. “I’m not mad, anymore, Sirius. See?” She smiled at him. “I’m not mad.”

“Ya should be!” Sirius cried. “I left ya on our n-night! Went wi’ Penny ‘n she’s been nothin’ but awful t'ya!” “Sirius, shhh. It’s okay, it’s okay,” Y/N assured him. “What kinda slimy git goes off wi’ someone who’s been s'mean to his best girl?” Sirius whimpered. “Shhh. Baby. It’s okay, I promise. You didn’t realize. I forgive you,” she told him, beginning to pull him toward her bed once again. “’M so stupid,” she heard him mutter and this time, she stopped him. “Sirius. Love, look at me,” She placed her hands on his cheeks and made him look down at her. “You made a mistake. I was upset and now I’m not. You aren’t stupid, Sirius. Let’s just go to bed,” she told him, earning a nod. As soon as she let go of his face, and pulled her into a hug. “Babe, we can cuddle as much as you’d like when we get you into pajamas and in bed,” Y/N promised, pulling away from him. He nodded and let her begin undressing him. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt and took it off of him, neatly folding it and placing it in a drawer, then pulling out a pair of his sweatpants that he had left in her room who-knows-how-long ago. She found that Sirius had been no help in undressing himself, and unfastened his pants and ushered him to step out of the and into the sweatpants.

“Do you want a shirt to sleep in?” She asked him tiredly. Sirius just shook his head. “Okay. Please lay down,” Y/N instructed as she lifts the covers on the bed. Sirius slumped down into the bed and before Y/N could walk around to get in on the other side, Sirius wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down on top of him. “I love you so much. You’re my whole world,” he mumbled into her collar bone. “I know, Sirius. I love you, too,” She sighed as she rolled off of him. Sirius stared at her for a few moments as she laid next to him. “You’re s’ pretty, Y/N,” he finally said with a sleepy smile on his face. “Thank you, Sirius,” Y/N shook her head with a small laugh before cuddling up to him. “I love you s’ much,” he sighed as he nuzzled into her. He pressed a kiss to her hair and then he was asleep.

A loud groan next to Y/N woke her from her sleep. She peeled her eyes open as she felt Sirius start to move. After a few more groans, and a whine about how bright it was, Sirius finally opened his eyes and looked around. “When did I… how…” he squinted as he spoke, his voice heavy with sleep. “Last night around 2:30 when you came here drunkenly shouting at me,” Y/N said as she sat up, attempting to jog his memory. “Y/N, I’m sorry! Y/N, I love you! Y/N, you’re so pretty! Y/N, you’re so important to me! Y/N, I LOVEEEEEE YOUUU!” Lily mocked. Sirius whined and rubbed his eyes. “Not so loud,” he pleaded. “Oh, no! You came in here pounding on our door and practically screaming about how much you loved Y/N while we were trying to sleep, now I’m going to scream-mock you while you are hung over,” Lily smirked. “That’s enough,” Y/N laughed, pulling Sirius to her. “Apparently, he had a rough night,” she said, dramatically petting his hair. “Of course I had a rough night!” Sirius whined. “You wouldn’t talk to me all day and I had to spend my night alone because you were mad at-HEY! You’re not mad at me anymore!” Sirius exclaimed, quickly spinning around and pinning Y/N to the bed. “You’re not mad anymore! You’re not mad anymore! You’re not mad anymore!” He cheered, leaning down and peppering her face with kisses. “And apparently you’re not hungover anymore,” Y/N muttered, pushing him away.

“That still seems mad,” Sirius frowned, sitting up on the bed. “Are you still mad?” “No,” Y/N laughed, “you’re just heavy.” “Well then, good. C'mhere,” Sirius grinned, pulling Y/N into his lap. “Sirius, sweetheart, I love you. But you smell like hangover and I really need to brush my teeth. How about you go take a shower and meet me in the Forbidden forest when you’re done?” Y/N suggested. “I like the sound of that,” Sirius replied with a goofy smile. “Alright, then get out of my room,” Y/N lightly shoved him away, but he pulled her back in to place a kiss on her cheek before exiting the room. “You’re so pretty, Y/N! I love you so much, Y/N!” Lily smirked once Sirius was out of earshot. “Shut up,” Y/N blushed. “He gets extra needy when he’s drunk.” “I’m just saying that alcohol brings out how people really feel,” Lily grinned. “It’s not- he doesn’t,” Y/N huffed, “You know he doesn’t see me that way, Lils.” “Yeah, okay,” Lily laughed, shaking her head. “Go brush your teeth and find your boyfriend.”

“What’s got you all smiley, mate?” Peter asked as Sirius entered the Marauders’ dorm and went straight for his dresser. “Y/N isn’t mad at me anymore. We’re gonna go spend the day in the forest,” Sirius grinned as he pulled on a fresh pair of trousers. “How did you manage to get off that easy?” James laughed. “Even I was mad at you for Friday night.” “Apparently I showed up at her dorm, drunk, at an ungodly hour and apologized profusely and repeatedly told her how much I love her,” Sirius shrugged, still smiling. “Wait, so she knows how you feel now?” Remus asked, wide-eyed. “What do you mean?” Sirius furrowed his brow. “Just that… ya know… you’re in love with her and all,” Remus shrugged. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You guys think I’m in love with her? No way! She’s my best friend!” Sirius shook his head. “We just thought that in your time without her yesterday you’d realized how you felt about her, and that’s why you drunkenly confessed your love to her. But that’s okay too, stay oblivious. That works,” James shrugged.

“What on-” Peter cut Sirius off. “WAIT A MINUTE! So you still don’t know how Y/N feels about you?” He yelled. “I don’t- how does Y/N feel about me?” Sirius asked, a surprised look across his face. “Great going, Wormtail. Really. Don’t worry about it, Padfoot. Y/N is your best friend, I’m sure she feels the same way about you as you feel about her,” James smirked. “I feel like you’re talking about more than friendship,” Sirius frowned. “Do you see her as more than a friend?” Remus raised an eyebrow. “You blokes are crazy. I’m going to meet Y/N,” Sirius shook his head and rushed out of the room. “I didn’t hear a no!” James called after him.

Sirius arrived to the forest to find Y/N standing up against a tree with her sketchbook, seeming to be drawing a flower growing out of the bark. He couldn’t help but smile to himself as her tongue peaked out from between her lips. She’s probably working on the shading, Sirius thought. He had always known that his best friend was beautiful, but something about this light made her glow. The way her brow furrowed when she was concentrating, the way her hair fell around her, the way she pushed it back when it fell into her face, the small smile that appeared when she finished a section before she moved onto drawing the next part. Merlin’s beard… I think I do love her! Sirius gasped quietly, and watched Y/N continue sketching the flower as he tried to decide how to go about his situation. I couldn’t ask her on a date, we hang out all the time… I could just go for a kiss.. no, she just stopped being upset with me, I shouldn’t do anything that drastic yet… hey, Y/N have I told you that I’m in love with you? No, that’s no good…

Y/N spotted movement in the comer of her eye, and turned her head to find Sirius standing nearby. “Sirius!” She called with a smile. Fuck it, Sirius decided as he made his way over to her. He marched right up to her and took her face between his hands before pressing his lips to hers. She was too shocked to move, for a moment, and Sirius was afraid he’d made the wrong choice, but then Y/N realized what was happening and began to kiss back, just before Sirius pulled away. “I-um-I,” Sirius started. “What took you so long?” Y/N asked with a smile. Sirius kissed her again before answering. “Darling, it has occurred to me that I am extremely clueless when it comes to important things,” he said with a laugh, and Y/N grabbed his collar and pulled his mouth back down to hers.

A/N: before anything else, let’s talk about this gif of Ben ‘light of my life’ Barnes; holy fuck. he is so pretty i’m crying. can i please have him? OMG GUYS. I haven’t been able to write in forever but I finally got this one done I hope you love it! Thank you so much for your patience and your support ♡♡♡

Masterlist

Buy me a cup of coffee

[softgayjohnlock-blog]

“It’s too late, John”

Summary:

Sherlock and John Holmes decide it's time to adopt a child. The problem, the final problem, is that Sherlock has a secret to hide. Will it stop him from being fit to be a parent?

trigger warnings: self-harm (sort of graphic ish), suicidal thoughts, internalized and open homophobia, depression, bullying (sort of)

221b wasn't in it's best state that afternoon. John had gone out to buy himself and Sherlock a few clothes (alone, since Sherlock had of course been 'busy'), Mrs Hudson was playing Cluedo without a care in the world (which was quite rare, as she would usually come in to check on Sherlock every once in a while), and Molly had come to the flat to give Sherlock a post-mortem review, while Molly's girlfriend, DI Hopkins, analysed the murder report with him.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, 6 ish?" Molly proposed.

"'Course love. Can't wait." replied Stella, with a hidden wink. She walked up to the side table, grabbed her many folders, and walked out after exchanging a smile with Molly.

Sherlock had been sitting on his chair the entire time, carefully observing both Molly and Stella's every move. He enjoyed watching a certain type of relationship. The type which he and John were involved in. 'The great wonders of homosexuality' Sherlock often quoted from an apparent book. With elegance and his fingertips placed on his cheekbones, he would slowly tilt his head from side to side, deducing every move, every breath, until Stella had left the bijou flat, allowing him to begin conversing with Molly.

"You and DI Hopkins. How long?" "3 months. Not quite as long as you and John of course, but then again, we aren't-" "-married. Yes, quite." Sherlock interrupted. He smiled to himself as he remembered his and John's wedding, but this smile quickly faded with a gentle pull down of his sleeves and an inaudible sigh. He proceeded in closing his eyes, allowing Molly to sort out the post-mortem details in the kitchen. She looked back at Sherlock to check he was still asleep, before closing the door behind her and leaving the flat.

Sherlock in fact had not been asleep. The moment he heard the door to 221b close fully, he gently opened both eyes, his spine still slumped onto the sofa. His sighs were heavy now. 'Bored!' he thought. Boredom began to consume him; he had been tapping his feet onto the floor for a few minutes now, finally deciding to pick up his phone from beside him.

*2 missed calls*. From John. And a text.

*Hi :) I'll be a bit late, your wonderful (irritating) brother decided to force me to visit him again. He talked about all kinds of things, the usual. God I hope I didn't miss anything important, it got a bit boring after a while. Something about your coffee habits? You don't even drink coffee. Who does that man think you are?! Oh and something about Eurus... or Euros? Could've been talking about Brexit for all I know. Sorry I was so tired and didn't listen, maybe I should've. If this coffee case, or the Euros(?!) situation means anything to you, thank GOD. I hope everything's okay, love you. See you at 5 :) x (if there's no traffic!)*

Sherlock glanced at the clock. *16:47*. He put his head in his hands and continued to sigh.

Coffee. Eurus. Coffee. Eurus. Coffee. Eurus. Coffee. Eurus. Coffee. Eurus. Coffee. Eurus.

Eurus.

"EU-" he was about to exclaim to himself, when a strong thud at the door stopped his words.

Sherlock's head tilted up incredibly quickly, almost as if it had become a natural reflex. He was frightened, but he knew he shouldn't have been. There was no reason to be, right? He slid his phone into the left pocket of his cardigan. After crossing his legs, his brain had decided he should just stop being frightened, and at least pretend to keep cool.

He crossed his hands, and with a fake self-assured tone, spoke. "Make sure the case is interesting, I'm currently not in the best state for boring cases. I need excitement. Now, do come in."

Nothing.

"Oh for God's sake" Sherlock muttered, his confidence building up again. He places his hands onto the sides of the chair, lifted himself, and began walking to the door. Placing his right hand into his pocket for elegance, he used his left hand to swing the door open.

Nobody.

"Don't be silly. Why are you hiding? We all know you've been doing that for too long anyway. Haven't you... Eurus?" Sherlock secretly hoped, as much as he feared her, that it would be Eurus, in order to avoid embarrassment.

Silence.

Sherlock had had enough. He closed the door slowly, and was about to turn around. Mid-turn, he glanced at his chair, and immediately jumped a little. Why was she on his chair? Who was this... child?

Not Eurus, of course. This child looked around 10 months old. A chill ran down Sherlock's spine as he predicted exactly what was to come next. With a quick check that his sleeves were fully down again, he looked back at the door. He was right. The figure was somehow standing there, AND somehow got a baby into the flat- all without Sherlock realising.

John Watson. He smirked a little with his eyes glowing, first looking at the child, then at Sherlock.

"Rosie" he said. Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows. He knew what was happening, but pretended to be confused to prolong the process. He couldn't quite believe what was happening, and quite frankly, he didn't want to believe it.

"Sherlock? You knew she was coming, I shouldn't have made it this obvious. She's gorgeous, Sherlock, absolutely gorgeous. The adoption company were still iffy about her being adopted by a gay couple though. For goodness sake, it's 2017!! But they let us Sherlock, they let us, and just LOOK how-" John wanted to continue, but was interrupted by Sherlock, as per.

"John I... she's gorgeous. I can see how great of a personality she has, and I love you for doing this without me, as a cute surprise. Honestly. There's just... one thing..." he trailed off, barely able to finish his sentence. He breathed heavily, everything became a little dizzy. John immediately hugged Sherlock, squeezing him a little tighter than usual, only letting him go after 3 minutes. He just wanted Sherlock to be happy.

But Sherlock couldn't be happy. Not now. It wasn't Rosie's fault, of course.

"It's my fault, John. I can't tell you why, but it's all my fault. I'm sorry."

John seemed confused. What was Sherlock talking about? He tried to 'deduce' him, as it were. One thing he quickly caught was Sherlock constantly pulling down and holding onto his long shirt sleeves. At first, this seemed like nothing, Sherlock did this all the time.

Sherlock did this. All. The. Time.

"Sherlock... come here again. I can't let you go, not now" he opened out his arms to give Sherlock another hug, and Sherlock came in for one. John's next steps were already planned. He slowly moved his hands down to Sherlock arms. Suddenly, Sherlock was not longer in John's arms hugging him. He knew exactly what John was doing, and couldn't bear the thought.

"I... need to go. Case. Yes, many cases. Thank you for adopting Rosie after last week's conversation, and sorry for being a bit shit. Now. A case!" "Sherlock- stop." John cared incredibly, but 'desperate times call for desperate measures' was one of his main motto's, to Sherlock dismay. With a quick glance, he made sure Rosie was asleep, which she was.

John took a deep breath, thought 'I'm sorry, Sherlock. I really am', and, as Sherlock was walking off, grabbed his right arm. Sherlock froze, which confused John. He had assumed Sherlock would fight back for whatever reason. But he had just frozen.

Tears slowly began to roll down Sherlock's eyes. He really didn't want John to know about his past, his present or his planned future. But he had given up, he was too weak to stop him any longer.

John undid Sherlock's shirt button, sighed, and slowly began to roll up the sleeve to reveal Sherlock's bare arm. Much to John's horror, it wasn't just what he had feared. It was much worse. Scars, in every possible gap, filled Sherlock's arm. Purple, red, white. Big, small. John couldn't believe what he was seeing, and while he wanted to state aloud how shocked he was, he decided it would be best to keep that to himself for now. A tear rolled down his cheek. He cared about Sherlock so much, and wouldn't believe that his own husband was doing this to himself. He was beautiful, intelligent, getting much more kind every moment of every day. Sure, he wasn't perfect, but that's what made him so precious to John. He was human. One of John's tears fell onto Sherlock's arm, onto a fresh wound, causing him to flinch.

A fresh wound.

John began to estimate how fresh it could've been. A few days old? No. Yesterday? Not quite...

Today. A couple of hours at most- when John was away. Guilt hit him like a bullet. He had gone, allowed Sherlock to harm himself, and now he was bombarding him with the burden of a child.

'So that's why Sherlock was sorry...' John realised. But Sherlock wasn't just sorry.

He was scared that he wasn't fit to be a father yet, and feared he never could be. Not while he was harming himself. But worst of all, Sherlock thought he wouldn't stop hurting himself. That he would never be a suitable father for Rosie.

Ever.

John felt a little tug as he held onto Sherlock's arm. He looked up, and saw Sherlock's tears uncontrollably flowing, but with no sound, and no facial expression. Sherlock's face was blank. He was numb, lifeless. John decided it would be best if he let go now, he didn't ever want to torture his husband after all. The moment he let his fingers gently remove themselves from Sherlock's scarred arm, he could sense Sherlock's urge to run. To run, and never return; to escape... quite literally. "Please. Sherlock..." John barely caught his breath, and now moved his fingers to Sherlock's greasy, ruffled hair. They were both frozen again now, and all that moved was Sherlock's eyes. From looking at the floor, he slowly guided his eyes to John's and analysed every aspect of his eyes. A sudden flashback to the night of John and Sherlock's wedding, of wedding vows, of passionate kisses and intimate hugs and--- Guilt.

* 2 years ago // John and Sherlock's wedding day: 8am *

Violins, pianos, cellos, flutes, bassoons, clarinets. Just some of the many instruments set up to play at the wedding. The order of the day was mapped out, perfectly calculated. It was to be the most wonderful, beautiful celebration that any of the guests should ever witness in there lives. All set up by Mrs Hudson. There would be-

"An introduction of flutes!! Oh wonderful, and then the teacakes can come while the violins play, and THEN when the main wedding cake is served, the bassoons, piano and clarinet can join- I've even designed the cute men, edible of course, that'll stand on the cake!! My boys. Getting married. MY boys!! Oh brilliant, I can finally show that idiot brother of yours that you have a heart, thanks for proving my point Sherlock"

That idiot brother. Mycroft Holmes, of course.

That idiot brother.

--

Sherlock had started getting dressed at around 11am that morning. Slowly buttoning up his crisp white shirt, the excitement was building up inside of him. A day with the love of his life, getting MARRIED to him, and a day without Mycroft to beat him down to the pulp with his words. It would be the best day of Sherlock's life. Best of all:

A guest list of people himself and John truly cared about.

Mrs Hudson

Molly

Lestrade

Sherlock's parents

Major Sholto

Harry (who would most likely not turn up)

Stella

A few of Sherlock's homeless network (John was not convinced)

The friends and family of all the above - an estimated 100 more people.

The guests were to arrive in a few minutes, it was all very exciting. Suit polished on, Sherlock headed towards the door. He gently twisted the handle, and left his temporary room- part of the many rooms in the grand building they had hired for the wedding. The spiralling staircase led on to the main hall. Flowers, bees and science. The 3 elements which made up the design of the room, of course designed by Mrs Hudson. She did, after all, have a secret talent for things like this. Sherlock began to slowly head down the stairs, a little terrified he would mess up the vows, or trip up, or begin talking about a case.

He could hear a few guests downstairs already. Some were identifiable from the guest list. Mrs Hudson was of course already there, but he could now hear Molly and Stella talking quietly below him. Nearby, but in a separate room, Sherlock heard two lower voices. 2 men, clearly, but the voices were so quiet that he couldn't work out who they were. Probably Major Sholto with a friend, he thought. He knew John was still getting ready in a room as far away from his own as possible- it was tradition, after all. Curiosity getting the better of him, Sherlock decided it was time to head downstairs to find out who's voices he couldn't identify. He took each step downstairs at a particular rhythm, while each brown stair creaked slightly.

Once downstairs, Sherlock found the door he had guessed was the one where the 2 low voices - who no longer spoke - had come from. Then a cough. A little cough, again unidentifiable, was heard from the room Sherlock was standing outside of. This was definitely the correct room. Obviously Sherlock didn't knock, and simply had to push open the door. No handle twisting, no lock picking. Just one push. It was a heavy door though, so Sherlock had to use a bit of force to allow the door to open.

A tall figure. Turned away from Sherlock.

Mycroft.

"What the HELL are you doing here?!" Sherlock shouted. He couldn't process why Mycroft was here, and he certainly didn't expect him to be there either. Mycroft responded with a snarky comment, as usual.

"Oh hello brother mine. Well well, of course I'm just here to remind you how disappointed I am in you. You and... him. I don't understand it, it's just so-"

"Beautiful. Yes, well I agree with you there, brother mine, mine and John's relationship is truly wonderful. Thanks for the reminder!" he said in the most sarcastic tone he could possibly create.

Mycroft sighed.

"Oh Sherlock. You know I didn't mean that. It's horrifying... two men. That's why I'm here, to make your day quite terrible indeed. With a little bit of help, obviously. You didn't think I just slipped myself in here somehow? Oh, no no no." Mycroft thought this would be the most clever way of using his time at the wedding. He thought it would all go to plan.

A moment later, another figure in a dressing gown and messy hair walked in, looking slightly distracted by his exhaustion.

"Hey babe, I've just got-" Lestrade stopped in the middle of his words. Standing there, was Sherlock and Mycroft. He didn't expect to see Sherlock, to be... exposed. Mycroft was horrified, he wanted to make Sherlock's day hell but hadn't realised this could happen.

He couldn't pass off Lestrade as his partner-in-crime in making Sherlock's day the worst day of his life. He couldn't reveal his inner homophobia, his inner guilt. He himself was gay, but he wanted to forget that and use Sherlock to let out all the hatred he had built up inside of him.

"You... and Mycroft?" Sherlock asked Lestrade. He knew if he had asked Mycroft he'd somehow justify something.

"Err, yeah. 1 year. Jeez Sherlock, you weren't supposed to know. Mycroft's a bit..." his words trailed off.

Mycroft spoke.

"Oh stop it. Hey, Sherlock, I was just joking, okay? I don't hate you and John at all, clearly. So we're good, yes? As long as you don't tell mummy"

But of course Sherlock was going to tell her. This was Sherlock.

"Babe, could you give Sherlock and I a moment?" Mycroft addressed Lestrade. His response was a small nod and a smile, and before he knew it Lestrade had left the room, as messy as he looked. Mycroft's facial expression changed from a soft smile to a dark stare in half a second.

"Sherlock. You don't tell mummy. You don't tell John. Or else I'll tell them both about... you." he looked at Sherlock's wrists. Sherlock let out a little gasp which he caught as quickly as he could.

"But... that was only once, Mycroft."

"Well I doubt it will be just once after today. You're so pathetic, so weak. You were always the stupid one. When you kiss John today, remember how sinful that is. I may be with Lestrade, but we're all pathetic sinners Sherlock. You and John are just much worse because you're getting married. It's so unnatural. I've wanted to protect you my entire life, and now you go and betray me like this. Go to hell, Sherlock, and never come back. I'll make sure you remember this day as the worst day of your life. You sinner."

---------

Vows given.

*glass smashes*

A gentle kiss.

*999. Mycroft has 'choked on his food'*

Cake cut.

*attempted robbery*

Drinks served.

*audible screams from outside the building*

Sherlock and John hold hands.

*fire alarm goes off*

Intimate hugs.

*the sound of a gunshot*

Fireworks outside.

*goes off too early. 2 guests taken to A&E*

Guests begin to leave.

*wedding limo cancelled by 'anon'*

Sherlock and John return home in a taxi.

*an array of knives and blades stacked out on the table*

Mrs Hudson removes the knives and blades.

*gets cut by a sharp knife, somehow hits a vein*

Sherlock takes a shower.

*a single blade, and a <3 note, on the edge of the bathtub*

Sherlock breathes heavily.

*the <3 note falls into the bathtub next to Sherlock's arms*

1 strike. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10 .... 200. 201. 202. 203.

*silence*

to be continued!! very soon, over on http://archiveofourown.org/works/9401537/chapters/21284150